Mass Effect II  Through the Fire and the Flames
by Tutor Veritatis
Summary: Shepard's past as a 10th St. Red comes back with a vengence after receiving a message from a storage facility where he buried his past. He will face the demons and mistakes of his past, with the love and support of Tali, and overcome his greatest mistake.
1. The Past Never Rests

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 1 - The Past Never Rests

Sitting at his console, fingers interlaced with his four-day growth stubble chin resting atop them, Shepard read the message over and over again, thinking; about the past, mostly. The message on his console was one he had not expected. Anderson, the Council maybe, hell even that annoying hero-worshipping pain in the ass Conrad Verner. Not this, though.

After surviving and destroying the Collector base, with both his team and crew completely unharmed except for a few scrapes and bruises, and a concussion with a small case of hurt pride in Hawthorne's case, this was the last thing he had expected to be waiting for him n the return through the Omega-4 Relay.

Leaning back slightly to read the message once again, for the umpteenth time, it went:

_To Mr. Jeremy Shepard,_

_This is a notice informing you that your lease on Storage Space ten is currently overdue on payment. We request that you forward your rent fee promptly or close your lease within the next two weeks and remove your possessions._

_Thank you for your patronage of Armstrong Secure Storage._

'Thirteen years, two of them I spent dead, and now it's come back into my life once again' Shepard thought, closing his eyes. Memories of his past came to the forefront of his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. His life as a Tenth Street Red hadn't been bad. For six years, they were like his family; his brothers and sisters. They all lived for one thing: 'Live by the Creed, die by the Creed'

Pulling out of his surge of melancholy, Shepard glanced at his desk clock. The holographic projection showed ten-thirty. Raising an eyebrow, he wondered where Tali was; usually she would be coming up to bed around nine. "EDI?" Shepard called out. The projector behind him lit up with the AI's avatar "Yes, Commander?". "Where is…" before he could finish his question, EDI said "Tali is currently on the crew deck".

"How…" Shepard began, but again EDI chimed in "Tali'Zorah's location has been your main question for the last two weeks in the evening hours, and I intuited that it would be the same tonight." Feeling a little like an open book, Shepard said "Thank you, EDI." As Shepard made his way to the door, EDI stated her usual goodbye and the projector went dark. Stepping into the elevator, two thoughts crossed his mind. The first was "EDI, intuiting a human question?" the thought just caused him to shake.

Ever since unlocking her restricted databases, the AI had become more like those old sci-fi vids with AI's in them. 'I wonder if she'll be more like HAL 3000 or Sonny from I'robot". The second thought that went through his head was "Tali must have gotten caught up with engineering reports again and lost track of time". That thought brought a small chuckle from him, as the elevator made its slow way down towards the Crew Deck.

The slow ride down gave Shepard the time he wanted to think about how he was going to approach Tali with this. He had never fully opened himself up to anyone about his past, even when Liara had researched it he still gave little to no detail as to the events leading to, during and after. Very few knew about the true details of his past, except Anderson who had more information than most. His extranet bio only mentioned that he was in a gang as a kid but left as soon as he turned eighteen. No one knew how or why, though.

The thought of telling Tali about his past; she was strong, her spirit and character a thing of true beauty in an otherwise dark universe. But would telling her about who and what he was before the Alliance, would that…frighten her. Scare her away from me? He thought to himself. A deep sigh and he squared his shoulders 'do it now or it will come back to bite you in the ass' he thought ruefully. Stepping off at the Crew Deck, he turned left, around the wall of the elevator shaft and saw her sitting in a chair at the second table.

As always, his eyes were drawn to the suit wrapping itself around her body. The fabrics pattern swirling and shifting slightly with even her smallest movements. She had three datapads arrayed out in front of her, and her omnitool was open. She was tapping at the screen, her movements seeming to float over the aerogel display as she typed notes into her tool for quick reference.

Silently, Shepard came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she jumped, her head spinning around to see who it was. Relaxing at seeing the smirk on his face, she said "boshtet", and returned to her datapads. Sliding his hands down, across her shoulders, onto her ribs and finally lacing his fingers across her stomach, he nuzzled the side of her helmet. His movements brought a small intake of breath from her. Raising his mouth to where her ear would be, he said "you know it's late, right? the Normandy will be fine should you go to bed."

Seeing the time, she jumped again. Turning her head slightly to see him in the corner of her eye, "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize." Tali said. Shepard gave her stomach a squeeze and a smile "I understand your need to keep the Normandy in perfect shape, but you still need time for yourself." He gave her another squeeze, and she gave a small laugh "with me, hopefully."

Rising from her chair, Tali gathered the datapads and stacked them together; as she turned, Shepard grabbed them from her hands and tucked them into the crock of his left arm while sliding his right arm around her waist. Another small laugh, and the two proceeded to the elevator. Entering the elevator, he let go and stood to the side of the car with an uncertain demeanor about him. "Tali, I…" he didn't know what to say or how to say it.

"What is it?" she asked, concern plain in her voice. Shepard couldn't meet her eyes, even through the tinted mask. Staring at his uniform boots and fiddling with the cuff of his Cerberus officers' jacket, a habit of nerves, he didn't respond. Tali stepped forward, and as he had done with her when she came to his cabin before the mission, she placed her hands on his ending their nervous motions.

Glancing up into her mask, he found a margin of strength to speak "I received a…message. From my past…" saying that only made saying what came next harder, "…not many people know the full details of my past. Most just know I was in a gang, a few have more in depth knowledge; Liara for one, and Anderson especially, but…" he broke off. He couldn't find his voice to continue, it was too painful, the memories both good and bad flooding his mind.

Raising a hand, Tali caressed his face; "Jem, you have always been a friend to me, and now we are more. You have always listened and helped me; let me listen now and help you." Her words, and the use of his nickname, reassured him. Reaching for the lift controls, Shepard tapped Deck 1. With the elevator rising, he began the story of his life he never thought any living soul would truly know of.

"I never had parents; I was abandoned in front of a fire station in a city back on Earth. From there, I was sent into foster care but as I grew older I began to act out and foster parent after foster parent, eventually, wanted nothing to do with me. In the end, I ran away from the foster system at twelve." The elevator reached the cabin, and the door opened onto the landing. Stepping toward the door, it opened at their approach. Immediately upon closing, the air was cycled, filtered and cleared of any particulates and bacteria.

Shepard had EDI initiate this operation anytime Tali entered the cabin in the evening, so she needn't worry of getting sick from a bit of airborne dust when taking her mask off. Tapping her omnitool, Tali gave herself a mild anti-biotic cocktail. It wouldn't prevent infection entirely, but would strengthen her immune system at twice the rate that it would naturally without aid. A small gift from Mordin's ever-inventing mind.

With the drugs in her system, Tali unlatched her mask and then her helmet pieces. Seeing her unmasked face was always a wonder to behold for Shepard. Her hair was black as obsidian, short bangs down to just above her eyebrows while farther back it was a couple of inches above her shoulders. A slender face, as if a sculptor had carved it from a grey marble. And her eyes glowed with an inner bioluminescence. Shepard had thought Tali was beautiful before, her personality and beliefs of selflessness and serving others endearing him and others of the first Normandy to the young Quarian.

Her physical beauty only a margin of her true self. Tali blushed at his attentions, her skin lightening slightly, and Shepard realized he had stopped talking. A short cough, he took her hand and led her towards the couch. "After running away from foster care authorities, I was on my own for about a week. I stole food to eat, from anywhere I could. I was fast for a kid, so running from irate shopkeepers was easy. It was also easy to run away in the city where I grew up."Tali sat on the couch, but Shepard remained standing. "What city did you grow up in?" she asked.

Turning to look through the large ceiling viewport, he said "Los Angeles. In the past it was a major metropolitan of different industries. When I lived there it was more of one giant slum. The rich built tall skyscrapers, as tall as is now physically possible to escape the poor areas of the city. Some places are still good, but most of it…people just don't care about anymore. They don't care about the once proud neighborhoods, the old movie-making industry or about the roadway system; the roadway system is so extensive, it would have cost exorbitant sums to demolish. It was all left to just rot away."

Turning back to Tali, Shepard continued his tale. "One day, I tried to steal from this guy I came across. He looked like he had money. But he caught me, took one look at me, and gave me a candy bar" Sitting on the couch next to Tali, his eyes downcast with a faraway look in them, remembering that day. Raising his eyes to hers once more, Shepard looked away before continuing "He introduced himself as Billy. Billy Watson. He offered to take me with him to where he and some friends lived. Said he would take care of me, like an older brother. That's what he and his friends were; brothers and sisters really. He took my hand and we walked a while before got to what he called his 'ride'".

_Los Angeles, California_

_United North American States_

_June 4, 2166_

The 'ride' as Billy called it was…well he didn't know what it was. But it was beautiful, at least to his twelve year old mind. It was long, sleek, with an exposed engine suspended on a chassis between two large tires with a pair of handle bars suspended over the seat. "What is it?" he asked. Billy glanced down, and then back at the wheeled machine. "That, little dude, is a motorcycle. You won't see many nowadays, with all those skycars flying above" Billy said this last part with a sickened look on his face, practically spitting "skycar" out of his mouth like it tasted bad.

Looking down once again at his new young friend, Billy jerked his head toward the 'motorcycle'. Swinging a leg over the high seat, Billy grabbed the kid around the waist and set him on the seat. Reaching into compartment on the side, Billy gave him a helmet and a pair of old goggles. "These are my girlfriends when we ride together, but you're about her size in the head" Billy said, knocking him on the head like knocking on a door.

"What's your name kid?" Billy asked, "Jeremy" he responded. Billy crooked an eyebrow, "…and?" "Shepard" he finished. Billy seemed to think about his name for a second, his index finger scratching the rough stubble of his left cheek. "Interesting. Your name in Hebrew means, basically, 'God will uplift'. And Shepard, well a person who takes care of a herd. You've got a very strong name Jeremy Shepard, be proud of it" Billy grinned, and put on his own helmet, then fixed Jeremy's helmet and goggles.

Turning to the console in front of him, Billy pressed the ignition button. The motorcycle came to life, with at first a low rumble and then roar of power which grew as Billy twisted his right hand. Turning back, he said "put your arms around my waist and hold on tight as you can". Doing as he was told, Jeremy wrapped his arms around Billy's larger waist, and grabbed onto his belt for safe measure.

Billy throttled the motorcycle once more, and kicked a switch at his feet. The back wheel spun, smoking, and the motorcycle turned in a tight circle completely the other direction down the short alley. Billy released the front break and they shot down the alley, onto the street and turned left, skidding once again, and flew down the street. Buildings, street signs and people flew by in a blur.

Holding tight to Billy, Jeremy took notice of the big red ten on his back. But he was more entranced by the sight of buildings flying past, peoples blurred faces. And the inexplicable joy this gave him. This motorcycle was amazing! He felt free; the speed-driven wind over his arm, the scenes of buildings and people mesmerizing, and the roar of the engine sounding as if the machine was alive. Jeremy realized it wasn't just the engine that was roaring, but also music. Coming from the same console when Billy started the bike; the music was fast, with a lot of guitars and drums.

Riding down a trash-strewn street lined with closed and dilapidated shops, Billy sat with an ease of experience as the air whipped passed him. After about ten minutes, they arrived in an old warehouse district. The old structures mostly boarded up except one. Turning the handlebars of the motorcycle, Billy throttled down on the accelerator. Touching a control on the console, the warehouse doors slid open, shrieking as old metal and gears stressed under the weight of the old doors. With only four feet of space open, Billy guided the bike in gently, thumbed the door control again and the doors slid shut.

Grey light filtered through the large windows, stained with dust, grime and age. At the far end of the warehouse was a two-tiered office with a rusted metal staircase connecting the two levels barely hanging on to the front by old rusted is not what kept Jeremy's eye, however; before the offices, which clearly were repurposed sleeping quarters was a fine living space. A low carpet, several chairs and couches all surrounding a large vidscreen, a very old model still using a frame and stand instead of a holo-projector.

Sitting around the screen, watching an old action vid, were near a dozen other people, dressed alike to Billy: blue jeans, some wearing their leather jackets, others tossed nonchalantly over shoulders or used as pillows. Every one of the jackets, however, bore the same red ten. The people lounging in front of the vid screen looked up and around to see the approaching motorcycle. One of them, a woman, got up, and stepped around the couch she had been lounging on. She had a stunning figure, even Jeremy thought she was beautiful.

Red hair down to her shoulders, eyes the deep blue of the ocean, with a stance which spoke volumes of confidence. She wore tight blue jeans with a black leather belt and ornate buckle, rider boots with her pant legs tucked inside, and in place of a jacket she wore a vest which looked to have once been a jacket, but was now missing the sleeves. Finally shutting the engine down, Billy stepped off the bike and Jeremy followed suit. The woman walked over, grabbed Billy by the front of his collar, pulled him down and gave him a deep kiss. Embarrassed, Jeremy looked away.

Breaking the kiss, Billy said in a breathy voice "and hello to you too". Shifting his gaze back to the couple, Jeremy caught the woman studying him. He felt his cheeks go red, and averted his eyes. A chuckle, and the woman stood right in front of him; she knelt to look into his eyes. "Hello, my name is Isabella, what's yours?" she had a soft voice, with a lilt giving it a musical quality. "Jeremy" he said, his voice squeaking on the 'r'.

Isabella giggled, another beautiful sound; "it's very nice to meet you Jeremy, would you like to watch the movie with us?" He nodded. Isabella stood, and led him to the couch she had been sitting on. Patting the seat next to her, Jeremy sat on the couch; it was comfortable and conformed to his body. In ten minutes he was fast asleep.

He was warm, comfortable; and he felt safe. His head full of fuzz from his nap, Jeremy sat upright on the couch. Billy's jacket, under which he had slept, slid from his shoulders. Looking around, the living "room" was empty except for one unfamiliar person. He wore the same basic outfit, jacket and jeans, with the addition of glasses, which he wore now while reading a book. A real book! Jeremy had never seen one, let alone held one. But there it was, paper, cover and all. Thumbing to the next page, the guy looked over at Jeremy.

Smiling, he closed the book and strode over to Jeremy. His skin bespoke of mixed ancestry, Mexican-American primarily, and he towered over Jeremy, well over six feet. Sticking out a big hand, the guy said "Sebastian Creel, little man". Shaking it, "Jeremy" he said. Breaking into a grin, Sebastian said "Awesome name!". Holding out the book he carried, the title read 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. "One of the main characters in this book's nicknamed 'Jem', short for Jeremy", Sebastian let out a big, booming laugh which echoed across the wide area of the warehouse, up and down its length, even startling a few pigeons out of their roosts.

Jeremy gave a small grin, unsure of what to make of Sebastian. He stopped laughing, but the merriment never left his eyes, "Billy asked me to watch over you during your nap. Their out to get food; you want something to drink?" Jeremy nodded, a little thirsty. Sebastian went to a fridge standing against the base of the sleeping quarters; opening it, he grabbed four bottles, handing two to Jeremy. One was a soda, the other water. Sebastian opened his water first and drank it down in one big gulp.

Smacking his lips, "always good to get water in your system. Cleans yer' insides out real nice" he said while opening the soda. Jeremy followed Sebastian's example, and drank the water before the soda. The soda was spicy, with many flavors, too many for Jeremy to identify. But he liked it, a lot really. Tapping his own bottle, Sebastian said "Sarsaparilla, the original way root beer was made. The ONLY way it should have been made, personally"

The two of them drank their sodas in silence, but not an uncomfortable one. At the far end of the warehouse, the great doors rumbled and shrieked open. At the forefront was Billy, with the rest of the gang following close behind. The bikes stopped over in what looked like a garage, tool chests and workbenches arrayed around in a U-shape. Killing engines the group of bikers dismounted. From the bags lashed to each of the bikes, bags of food and cooking supplies were pulled out and were moved over to the 'kitchen' area, adjacent to the living area.

Looking over, Billy saw Jeremy and walked over "Have a good nap, Jeremy?". Jeremy nodded in response. "Did Bas' look after you well?" Billy asked, nodding towards Sebastian, who rolled his whole head in conjunction with the roll of his eyes. Nodding again, more enthusiastically this time, "he gave me a nice soda, sasper; sarspar…" Jeremy couldn't pronounce what Sebastian had said, but Billy threw up his hands and turned to Sebastian, "you gave him that 'original' stuff?" he said, emphasizing original.

Sebastian gave Billy a crooked grin, but said nothing. Billy turned his attention back to Jeremy, "anyway, were cooking some burgers. How many do you want?". Surprised, Jeremy took a moment to respond "you…you want me to…to eat with you guys?" Billy laughed, a big laugh that filled the whole of the empty space around them.

Billy stopped laughing abruptly, suddenly serious. "We don't want just to share our food with you Jeremy, we would like you to accept an invitation to join us" as Billy said this, the group at large gathered behind him, in a single-file line. Straight backs and heels together, all looking forward with resolution in their eyes; Billy stood at the very front, their proud leader. In a voice of authority, Billy said "Jeremy Shepard, will you join us in our creed, our code and in how we choose to live our lives. Will you become one of us, the 10th street Reds, a brother in all things but blood itself. Will you accept our tenets of Freedom, Honor, and METAL. Will you, Jeremy Shepard, accept all we have to offer and stand with us?" On his feet again, Jeremy said without hesitation "yes".

As that part of his story came to a close, Shepard felt a three-fingered hand cup his right cheek, turning his face to look directly into Tali's beautiful luminescent eyes. "I've heard about your old gang, a little, but I never would have expected them to be like how you described". Shepard nodded understanding "when Billy asked me to join, that was before…" the memory surfaced, bright with recollection and cold in the events which took place, when his family, for the second time in his life was ripped away from him.

Tali saw the pain in his eyes from the memory; she turned his head again and gave him a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Shepard was smiling again, a thankful smile. "The Reds had changed when I left; they became nothing more than thugs, with a perverted sense of what they used to be". Before Tali could ask another question, she yawned widely, and Shepard gave a small laugh. "Let's go to bed, your clearly tired" Shepard said as he stood. Tali stayed on the couch, "I am tired, but now I'm more interested in your tale". Shepard laughed again, "I'll tell you in the morning, I swear, now bed".

Nodding once, Tali stood as well. Removing her suit was a long process, but once the last buckle was unfastened she was free. Borrowing a long shirt from his drawer, Tali slipped it on and got into bed. Shepard, comfortably in a simple shirt and boxer-briefs, slid into bed as well. The lights dimmed automatically, courtesy of EDI, and Tali slid closer to Shepard. Her hand caressing his right forearm, Shepard took Tali into his embrace. Together, under the endless expanse of stars beyond the thick material of the ceiling window, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy and Jeremy Shepard fell asleep peacefully as their ship sailed through the vast emptiness of space.

_Authors Note:_

_Most of the characters in this work are products of the amazing video game Mass Effect II and the company of Bioware. I hold no claim, title or presumption of any form of possession thereof to either._

_Characters who are the products of my own mind:_

_Personality and unique character of Jeremy Shepard_

_The names of the gang members of the 10th Street Reds are all my own creation, including their personalities and tastes. The vehicles ridden by the gang are also products of my own design, with liberal inspiration from multiple sources._

_I wrote this for my own enjoyment, and I post it to test the waters and consider posting future works. If you enjoyed this piece, I will consider a continuation, which I plan. Read and review if you wish, but only constructive comments and critiques. I'll not read anything with excessive cursing or derogatory comments, those will be immediately deleted and forgotten._

_Thank you for reading. Arrivederci,_

_Tutor Verum (a loose Latin translation for "defender of truth")_


	2. Baptism of Fire

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 2 – Baptism of Fire

Rain; Sheets of water pouring from the sky, speed-driven wind casting the water into the visor of his helmet as he kept the throttle fully open, trying to run away. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to go. Everything was lost. The machine beneath his body, long, sleek, beautiful roared with power as the system shifted to second stage. Despite the power at his fingertips, the speed he could attain with the mere flick of a switch was not enough to outrun the dark shadows of his dreams.

One shadow, matching pace, rode alongside; the darkest of all shadows; ahead, a great structure towered over the landscape, dominating the skyline with its size. Pulling hard left, the two began their ascent into the great structure. Rising higher with every turn, the road beneath leveled out at the top. Before the two riders, a great chasm; a flick of a switch, that's all it took to begin powering the final stage. The machine whirred and hissed, expanding.

An alarm sounded, the system was ready, but he could not activate it. Hesitating, too long, and both fell into the great darkness. The alarm continued, a beast shrieking to be released. A great explosion lit the darkness, piercing light as the alarm continued.

"JEREMY" Shepard bolted upright, startling Tali who had been trying to wake him. Breath coming in short gasps as his heart rate slowed, Shepard swung his legs out of bed, face buried in his hands as the nightmare receded into the confines of his subconscious. A gentle hand pressed against his back, moving up and began to massage his neck. The three fingers kneading the muscles, Shepard let out a breath as the last strands of the nightmare finally withdrew.

Reaching up, he took one of Tali's hands, kissed it, and held it to his face. Her other hand slid across his chest and she pulled herself to embrace him backwards. The shape of her body fit perfectly to his, a warm comfort which banished the dread cloud left over from the dark shadows. Already knowing, but needing Shepard to speak about it, Tali asked "was it about the Reds?"

Shepard nodded, sucking in a breath he spoke "it was when I left…no, when I ran away". Moving closer, Tali turned his face to look him in the eye. Leaning forward, their lips met and held; Tali ran her hands through Shepard's hair and Shepard held Tali close at the small of her back and between her shoulders. Both stayed locked in their embrace for an interminable span before separating.

Looking into his eyes again, Tali saw the strength and fortitude she had first fallen in love with in what seemed an eternity ago. Without moving from the embrace, Tali said, in barely a whisper and trying to say everything at once, "I love you". Shepard smiled, kissed Tali again, broke their embrace and stood.

"I'll get some breakfast. Any preference?" Shepard asked. Shaking her head, Tali said "just my regular rations". Rolling his eyes, Shepard said "you realize, as the CO's girlfriend, you do get some extra privilege" A small laugh, and Tali gave him a lascivious quirk of her eyebrow accompanied with a smirk "I get all of the…privileges I could want" she said, devouring him from head to toe with her eyes. Grinning, Shepard left the cabin, grabbing a pair of pants from his drawer and pulled them on in the elevator. Getting off at Deck 3, Shepard found most of his combat team already eating.

Sitting at both tables of the mess, the collection of both human and alien members were talking animatedly, and Shepard only caught snippets of conversations. Garrus, Zaeed and Thane discussing sniper rifles "…the Mantis has power, but the Viper and Incisor can take out shields quick…". Samara and Jack discussing biotics "…concentrating the power into a core before release will allow greater control…". Kasumi and Miranda discussing clothing "…I know this one boutique on the Citadel you'll love…". Jacob was absent, either in the small gym in the hanger or on duty, along with Grunt and Mordin, both of whom usually took the meals alone.

Approaching the galley, Gardner was stirring a pot of something, but it smelled good enough. Looking up, Gardner noticed Shepard, smiled broadly "morning Commander, what can I get ya'? Gardner asked. "Just the usual, again" Shepard replied, "and Tali's morning ration as well". The grin on Gardner's face widened, "aye sir". Gardner opened a cabinet, grabbed a bowl, two ration packs and dispenser of milk. Along with these, from a second cabinet, Gardner took two food tubes. Placing both on a tray, Shepard took it and began to walk away, "Commander" Gardner called.

Turning, Shepard noticed Gardner no longer had that grin on his face; in fact the man was entirely serious. "Permission to speak freely" Gardner asked, "granted" Shepard replied. Gardner seemed to gather himself, let out a breath and said "I just wanted to say, seeing you and Miss Zorah together…it makes me glad I signed on in the first place". Gardner's eyes cast over with a memory briefly and then continued "after I lost…everything it seemed at the time, I didn't know what was left to live for. Before I joined Cerberus, I had nothing. Then I joined this crew and together the Collectors were defeated. And now you and Miss Zorah are together…it reminds me of my own wife when we dated".

Again, Gardner's eyes cast over briefly with a memory "Seeing you two together, reminds me of what I had. As a man who had everything taken from him, let me just say this: keep her safe and keep yourself alive, for both your sakes. Without her, life means nothing; you'll just be empty once the Reapers are defeated. And don't get killed, because without you she'll have nothing to live for either". Gardner nodded, and Shepard reciprocated with a simple "I will".

Getting back into the elevator, Shepard thought about what Gardner had told him. His friends, his love for Tali, and everyone who willingly fought for and with him against the Reapers and Collectors, they were the ones who gave him strength to continue on. It was for them Shepard fought; to fight for the galaxy, there were simply too many people, too many nameless faces. But Tali, beautiful, kind Tali, all of his friends who stood with him, that's what he fought for: their future.

In his mind, Shepard saw himself an old man, Tali, without her mask, standing together in a home somewhere. Garrus, his best friend, drinking at a bar together, two war buddies enjoying the others company without having to speak of the battles they had fought together.

Coming out of his daydream, Shepard stepped off the elevator on Deck 1, stepping through the door and moving to the living area, setting the tray down on the coffee table. Tali, now in her suit again and sitting in the chair opposite the couch, took one of the tubes, and inserted a feed tube. Shepard, likewise on the couch, opened one ration pack, and dumped the corn flakes into the bowl. Opening the second, he squeezed out the honey and drizzled it over the flakes.

Honey pack empty, Shepard grabbed the dispenser and poured a generous portion of the milk onto his cereal, leaving the rest to drink. Before he could start, Tali said "you promised to tell me more about your time with the Reds this morning". Nodding, Shepard took a bite of cereal to delay and gather his thoughts together.

"The next event would be when I was fifteen, sixteen within a month. At that time, before I turned sixteen, I became a full member of the Reds after four years of studying". Tilting her head to the right, Tali said "studying? I thought it was a gang, not a learning group".

Shepard smirked, "it might seem strange to hear, but the Reds valued knowledge and education, to gain the ability of informed reason without bias. All of the members were taught a wide range of subjects, and each focused on one specific subject as their primary responsibility". Tali, tapping her voice 'box', "So each member specialized in one subject but had a modest knowledge of the others subjects".

Shepard nodded with a smile, "exactly. No one subject was important over another, and all intertwined into the others. History, writing, literature, all important and all interrelated; above all else, honoring knowledge, and those who taught it, and want it could grant was the most important to understand overall". Tali nodded again, amazed at the similarities with the philosophy of Shepard's old gang and her own people, holding similar beliefs. "So after you completed your education, what happened?". A smile grew on Shepard's face, remembering the day his education was complete, "that was the day I first wore the full colors of a 10th Street Red".

_Los Angeles, California_

_United North American States_

_June 3, 2170_

Lounging in the living area, Jeremy lay on a couch with a book in hand-not a reader, but a real book with paper. At first, when he began to live with the Reds, such things as books were unknown, as he had only heard of them before but never seen one. The gang had an entire library, really just a couple of storage closets re-purposed and finished with fabric shelves and moisture reduction materials. The subjects were mostly history and literature, but during meals, the gang would discuss and debate about subjects of interest.

That was how Jeremy was taught for the last four years: reading, discussing and debating. That which he didn't learn from books, he learned from the gang, one of the big subjects he learned was caring for and maintaining the bikes. Every part of the bikes, moving and non-moving, he learned to identify and care for properly. The physical parts of the machines were the easiest parts to learn, but Billy and Sebastian also taught him the control systems and electronic aspects of the bikes as well.

There were a lot of numbers and math equations which went into those parts, and he really didn't understand it all. About a month ago, images, ideas for designs and numbers ran through his head. He couldn't stop thinking about it until he began to sketch and write out everything he could before it disappeared. Billy had found him around midnight, finished, but when Billy saw the work he had done, Billy said nothing, just rolled up all of the work Jeremy had done and taken it away somewhere.

Yesterday, Isabella had told him just to do as he wished both yesterday and today. When he awoke this morning, the entire gang was gone, with nothing but a note from Billy which stated simply "stay here until we get back; do whatever you want, but stay home". So Jeremy had done just that; he'd washed, eaten breakfast, watched TV, read, watched more TV, and now was reading again.

He felt anxious, and annoyed and bored. That was the worst part, boredom; time seemed to stretch interminably. Seconds became hours it seemed, and there was little to fill the time until the gang returned from whatever it was they were doing. "_Probably having' fun without me_" he thought bitterly.

The last month the whole gang had been acting weird, talking secretly in whispers, stopping whenever he came near or entering a room, anyone inside would just stop talking and give him a side-glance. Those looks and whispers had started around the time he'd done his sketches, Jeremy remembered. "_Don't see why they need to get so worked up about some drawings_" didn't matter much he was still bored to death.

Closing his eyes, Jeremy tried to recall, for what seemed to him to be the hundredth, thousandth, _millionth_ time what he had done on those sheets of paper which caused Billy to react the way he did. All he could remember was how many sheets he used in total: ten regular sheets, and two larger ones. Beyond that, nothing about what he had written and sketched.

A shriek of metal and groaning gears, straining under weight and age, accompanied with the rumble and roar of the motorcycles; Jeremy shot up from where he'd been laying and saw the gang riding in. As always, Billy led atop the _Iron Chopper_ with the rest of the gang following in an arrowhead formation. Jeremy once asked Billy about the name, but the only answer Billy gave him was "it's personal to the rider; you'll understand when you have your own".

To Billy's right was Isabella, riding _Steel Charger_, a beautiful motorcycle among the twelve others. Deep crimson with blue highlights, Isabella rode it not sitting but laying full body along the frame. Billy gestured to the rear seat on his bike, "Get on" he called. The tone of his voice told Jeremy no argument or questions just do as he was told. Climbing onto the seat, Billy passed him the spare goggles and helmet. Grabbing Billy around the waist, Jeremy wondered what was happening now.

The gang spun their bikes around in unison, rear tires smoking and followed Billy out through the still open warehouse doors into the obscured sunlight. The gang rode in formation, twisting and turning down abandoned streets and boulevards, remnants what the city once was. The old city soon fell behind them as the gang entered the new part of the city, where only the richest could live. Billy and the rest of the gang told him, on several occasions, the people who lived in the great skyscrapers had forgotten what it meant to live in such a place as Los Angeles.

The city had been beautiful, at one time, but once people began to leave and live further and further away, they forgot about…everything. The history and the events which created the city and the importance of remembering those times; the gang periodically rode into the new city, to the irritation of the police and some of the people, who labeled them as a public nuisnace. Others, however, saw the gang as criminals, and the rest called them rebels, outlaws and outcasts to be purged.

Every time the gang rode into the city, there was little time to wait for authorities to try and chase them down, but the authorities never succeeded. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw flashing red and blue, and police aerial and ground vehicles appeared. Billy raised his right hand, made a fist, released and set his hand back on the throttle. It was a game for the Reds to race against the police, a game which the police always lost.

This was the first time Jeremy had ever been, though, and the way the others had talked, it sounded fun. Now that he was in it, he wasn't so sure anymore. From Billy's console, and the consoles of the other bikes, music began to play out of multiple speakers. It was fast, loud, and set perfectly to the setting of a fast chase between the gang and a society they chose to live outside of.

Roaring down the long old road which the new Los Angeles was built on, the 10th Street Reds rode atop their horses of steel, outrunning their pursuers. Another hand signal from Billy and the gang prepared for their getaway. Jeremy watched as Billy thumbed a control on his right handlebar, below the throttle. The motorcycle vibrated as hidden systems came to life. The rear of the bike expanded, a large nozzle extended from the back and what looked to be small wings extended from the sides.

The bike soon began to vibrate again; Jeremy could feel the power building within the core of the motorcycle. Looking to the others, Jeremy saw all of the bikes had transformed, lengthened by similar hidden parts. All of them seemed to glow as well; looking down, Jeremy saw similar L.E.D's across Billy's bike. _Status Lights,_ Jeremy realized, _but for what?_

The answer to that came as the console of Billy's bike began to scream with a klaxon alarm, and Billy activated one final switch. From the exposed nozzles of the motorcycles, fire burst forth and the motorcycles flew down the road, leaving the pursuing police literally in the dust stirred up by the explosion of power. The screaming of the wind in his ears and the power of the motorcycle thrilled and terrified him, and Jeremy held onto Billy as hard as possible. Billy was not just calm about the speed of his motorcycle, but was exhilarated beyond comprehension. After an interminable amount of time, the acceleration began to slow, eventually returning to normal speed.

The gang rode outside of the city into the desert wastelands beyond. The heat was visible to the naked eye, rising in vaporous waves similar to gas. In the distance a large stone pillar dominated the horizon, a great obelisk reaching towards the sky. From a distance it seemed small and near, but the gang drew no closer to the obelisk as time passed. The sun reached the four o'clock position in the sky, and still the gang had drawn no closer to the obelisk but it had grown larger.

Much larger, towering over the landscape growing larger but never closer as the gang rode on. The sun continued on its path toward the sun-baked horizon; finally, the base of the mighty obelisk was seen, still a distance away but the sheer size of it was spectacular to behold.

Arriving at the base of the obelisk, the gang powered down their motorcycles and dismounted. Billy got off, unbuckled his helmet and goggles, stowing them away in a compartment as Jeremy did the same. With a jerk of his head, Billy indicated Jeremy to follow him. Walking behind him, Jeremy noticed the rest of the gang; they all walked in the same arrowhead formation as when they rode.

Up the slope of the base of the obelisk, Jeremy and the gang climbed until reaching a cave hidden behind a fissure in the rock wall. The gang slipped inside the small cut marring the seamless rock, inside was dark, nearly an impenetrable blackness. From the darkness, Jeremy could hear…something, the crackle of electronics coming to life and what sounded like a guitar being tuned, a rustling of cloth and the chink of metal of metal.

The guitar sounded again, stopped, once more and…a roar of sound assaulted his ears, and Jeremy clapped his hands over them but he kept his eyes open. Before him the cave was no longer dark but lit with pillars of fire reaching towards the ceiling. Arrayed around the periphery stood the members of the gang, garbed in outfits of black cloth and metal, not flimsy tin but wrought iron and shaped with sharp edges, skull designs, spikes and some with claws; near the back of the cave stood two figures, one wearing a heavier metal outfit with a wolf skull helmet, complete with a hairy mane.

Atop a stone dais stood another figure, garbed in what looked to be the heaviest outfit of all: a full chest plate with a wolf head design, spiked greaves and taloned gauntlets, ending in a helmet wrought in the shape of a black bear skull. The figure atop the dais, _Billy, the damn showoff_, Jeremy thought, ran his talon fingers across the strings of the guitar once again then flew into a fast solo, his fingers dancing across the strings perfectly. In time with the guitar, the fire-pillars oscillated with the speed and tone of the guitar, flaring on high notes and shrinking on the low.

The solo came to an end, and the fire-pillars returned to a steady burn. "Jeremy Shepard, step forward", Billy called out, his voice reverberating off the cave ceiling and walls. A single step, and Billy "remove the trappings of your old life" Billy called, a gauntleted hand indicating the clothes Jeremy wore, a shirt, cargo pants and tennis shoes.

Looking back at Billy, Jeremy hesitated; with a single hand gesture, Billy commanded him once again. Jeremy Stripped, right down to his underpants and socks. Stepping forward, heart pounding, Jeremy approached the dais. Closer and closer Jeremy came until he was half a dozen feet away, where Billy held up a hand to tell him to stop. Looking down, Jeremy stood atop an engraving in the floor, in the shape of a fanged beast. Billy strummed his guitar once more and the eyes of the beast glowed fiery red, then yellow and finally to white whereupon flames shot out of the floor encircling Jeremy.

Standing perfectly still, out of fear or something else, he was unsure. The flames roared around his body, and the beast face seemed to come alive as the fire roared around him. The fire retreated into the engraving of the beast, and Jeremy stood in the center unmoving, "Open the chest before and take its contents as your prize" Billy intoned. A wooden chest stood before the steps of the dais, black wood sculpted into a seamless whole and wrought iron forged to perfectly form its contours.

Stepping forward, Jeremy ran a hand over the top, unable to find a single break or flaw in the wood. Touching the lock, shaped in the same visage as the floor engraving of a fanged beast, Jeremy pressed the face of the beast in, opening the lock and revealing the interior. At first, he thought it was empty, but saw the content was the same black as the wood.

Removing the pants, Jeremy pulled those on, removed the black shirt and tucked that into his pants. The black boots came next, reaching up to his lower calf. After lacing those up, Jeremy removed the last item in the chest: a jacket, with a big red ten on the back. Putting one arm through, Jeremy slipped the other in and hitched the jacket onto the shoulders. It fit very well, snug but not uncomfortable.

"Now play" Billy said, throwing Jeremy the guitar; he caught it mid-air, set it against his body and rested his fingers upon it. Jeremy ran his fingers across the strings once, twice, then…a single note, then two, four. It was not fast, but the rocks and cavern shook with the power and the pillars of fire reached higher, to the heights of the cavern ceiling. The song, without words, spoke of honor and courage against tremendous adversity.

The notes reverberated throughout the cavern and echoed within the souls of the assembled members who stood in silent vigil as before their eyes their newest member played a song of courage against all odds, honor in life as well as in death, and remembrance of all who had gone before them.

The song ended, and Jeremy looked up at Billy, dressed in his ceremonial outfit. Raising a fist, Jeremy placed it over his heart and bowed at the waist. A shuffle and soft grating of metal, and the other members placed their gauntleted fists over their own hearts and bowed as well. Isabella, for Jeremy knew it was Isabella who stood below Billy atop the dais, placed her own fist over her heart and bowed. "Welcome, brother Jeremy" Billy intoned in finality.

Raising his eyes, Shepard gazed through the visor obscuring Tali's face. Her expression, though unreadable on her face, was betrayed in her posture: the rigid set of her shoulders, the stiff set of her back and tight clenching of her hands balled into fists. Shepard understood; the gang had put him in danger, he saw that now. Reaching over, he laid a hand over hers.

Eventually, Tali released the tension of her body, took one of his hands into hers and held it. "I can't believe they would willingly put you into such danger, all just to join them" her voice betrayed her anger at what had happened to him. "It took me a few years, well into my career in the Alliance to realize just how foolish it really was. Hindsight and all that. At the time I just wanted to be one of them and it did turn out fine in the end" he said this last part with a finality in his tone, pushing the fact that he did come out unscathed. Tali nodded, letting the matter stay in the past where it belonged with the rest of his story.

"So what did the gang do after you joined them fully?" Tali asked, her tone brighter if a little forced. "We went home, had a party to celebrate, and that went on all night until everyone just fell asleep where ever they happened to be". A big smirk crossed Shepard's face, "Sebastian and one of the others fell asleep in each others' arms. Those two had the most, and were still asleep by the time the rest of us woke up. It was so funny and we laughed so hard it woke the two of them up". He laughed at the memory, the mirth rising as he recalled "when those two woke up and saw how they were, they freaked out so hard it just got worse for the rest of us. We laughed until we couldn't stand on our feet".

Tali gave a small laugh, not really getting the joke, but laughing with Shepard because it was such a good memory. "They all sound like incredible people" she said; a grin spread across Shepard's face "that wasn't the end of my trial, however". The humor Tali had within her died at those words, replaced with a cold anger towards what Shepard's gang had made him do to join them. "What else did they ask for you to do?" she asked. Eyes cast back into the past, Shepard said "my first ride".

_Los Angeles, California_

_Untied North American States_

_June 4, 2170_

A night of revelry and loud celebrations at the warehouse had left Jeremy in a mood of euphoria that morning. But that vanished when Billy had told him the next part of his initiation, the final test. The drawings and designs Jeremy had done over a month ago, Billy said, were given to a guy identified only as 'Tyr', a mechanic of some kind who owned a shop where he made custom motorcycles and parts.

The way the members of the gang talked about him, this 'Tyr' sounded closer to his namesake than just being a nickname. Around ten that morning, the gang rode out once again, twisting and turning down the street of the city until arriving at a rundown building, with a sign reading "Tyr's forge". Stepping off the bike, Billy threw his arm around Jeremy. Though he had grown dramatically over the past four years, Billy still stood a full shoulder and head taller than him.

Entering the garage from a side entrance, Jeremy noticed it was quiet in the garage. He had been expecting a cacophony of noise one would hear in the forges of the fabled Norse Gods, especially with the way the gang talked about this guy he expected to hear a mighty hammer forging upon a great anvil. Instead, the place was quiet as death. Moving deeper inside, even the work area was barren of any signs of work. "Tyr! We're here to get your latest work" Billy called out.

From the back of the shop, in what was once an office for garage staff, an extraordinarily tall man stepped out. Billy was tall, but this man towered over him. Jeremy thought, even if Billy put him on his shoulders they would only reach below the man's chin, which was covered in a massive beard tied into multiple braids. Everything about the man, Tyr, was massive: his arms were corded muscles, hands akin to hammers, and his chest broad and powerful. His eyes, a deep black, looked down upon them from his thick-set head.

"William, son of David, who is it shall receive this work of Tyr?" he asked, his voice deep and reverberating, carrying to all four corners of the garage. Billy, dropping his arm from around Jeremy, placed his fist to his heart. The rest of the members followed with the same salute, and Jeremy did likewise, not really understanding what it meant. Billy hadn't told him much yesterday, and this wasn't something he had studied for the past four years. "Jeremy Shepard, son of John, is the one who seeks your work" Billy said, stepping to his right and gesturing with his left hand at Jeremy, as his right was still positioned over his heart.

Tyr gaze shifted to Jeremy, a movement not merely of his massive head but seemingly his entire body moved to regard him. Stroking his beard with one hand, Tyr asked "you have passed the Trial of the Fire Beast and you now bear the colors of your clan, your final test is the Trial of Spirits where you shall ride into the desert and summon your spirit animal" Tyr intoned.

From his belt, Tyr drew a forgers' hammer with a long handle, engraved with beasts and monsters. Taking the hammer around the neck, Tyr tapped the concrete floor three times. A rumble and a quake, the floor split beneath their feet as hidden mechanisms drew the entryway apart. A staircase into a hidden chamber beneath the dilapidated garage, Tyr descended first followed by Billy and Jeremy with the gang following behind.

The chamber beneath the garage was a well of black, impenetrable and unyielding. The outline of Tyr could barely be seen as he raised the hammer in both hands "In the name of Odin, Father of all Gods, AWAKEN!" Tyr brought the hammer down, a quake resonating through the ground. Fiery light sprang from the edges of the chamber, racing around the perimeter, tracing intricate designs in the walls depicting battles, the faces of the gods and beasts of old, long forgotten times. The fire met in the center of the back wall, ran down onto the ground and raced forward, encircling a magnificent motorcycle.

The front was dominated by a wheel and drive assembly extending forward from the main body; the body of the machine, clad in plates of onyx black accented in crimson, sat atop a powerful hydrogen engine of eight cylinders, which ended in flared exhaust pipes. The seat, a pliable foam material, ended in a forward console stretching to the rear of the front tire. Extending from the exhaust and affixed to the body were two manifolds with openings at either end.

Jeremy didn't know what those were for, nor did he care as he took in the sight of the awesome machine before him. Unbidden, as if they were not under his control, his legs carried him to the motorcycle. Walking a circle around it, Jeremy took in the beauty of the machine: power and elegance forged into a seamless whole in perfect harmony with one another. "Mount your steed Jeremy, son of John" Tyr intoned.

Raising his eyes from the motorcycle, Jeremy caught the eyes of the other members, his brothers and sisters; some gave him thumbs up, others nodding in agreement. At the front, just behind the massive Tyr, were Billy and Isabella; her head rested on his shoulder, his hand around her waist. A single gesture from each of them: a nod from Billy, his back straight and heels together, and a smile from Isabella, whose eyes glistened with tears held back.

Jeremy swung his leg over the seat, which contoured to his body perfectly. Reaching forward, he took the controls in his hands. At his touch, the machine came to life: the console lit, the engine thrummed as the system came alive, groaning in what he thought was the anticipated release of power. Beneath the floor, mechanisms turned a pedestal atop which Jeremy and the bike rested and set them facing the back wall. A seam appeared in the center and the wall split open revealing a tunnel.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Jeremy took out a pair of goggles, the same ones Billy let him use the day they met. Fixing the goggles to his face, Jeremy twisted the throttle. The engine roared with life, a bestial sound which sang of power and grace. Along the length of the body, a green strip circled from front to back, indicating readiness of all systems.

Twisting the throttle once again, Jeremy kicked the foot release and the back wheel spun. Jeremy sped through the tunnel, which inclined up towards the surface. A door opened to the sky and Jeremy flew out of the hole, landing on the pavement easily. The speed driven wind blew his hair back from his face, fluttered the sleeves of his jacket. Turning east, Jeremy sped away towards the city limits.

Buildings shrank and space between the structures grew as he rode; soon the city fell behind him and the open desert lay ahead. A long straight road lay ahead, and Jeremy felt his motorcycle beneath his body. The vibrations caused by the engine, the feel of the wind as it caressed the body: the whole machine begged for release.

Moving his left hand over a control on affixed to the handle, Jeremy thumbed a switch which began the second stage release sequence. The system powered up, the engine and exhaust roared with the buildup of power; on instinct, without needing to see the power buildup display on the console before him, Jeremy deactivated the system locks.

The green strip turned yellow a microsecond after the motorcycle accelerated; out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy read the speed around two-hundred. The road before him sped past as if dragged out from beneath him, rocks and the landscape flew by him in a blur. The vibrations of the machine were greater now, the beast hidden within crying out for more, needing to be unleashed and fly free.

On the right handle, Jeremy thumbed one last switch. The process would build into a critical mass until released, but the release had to come at the right moment or else it would either not be powerful enough, sending the bike into a cascading system failure, or too powerful at which point the machine would go out of his control and crash. The final stage built up power, the vibrations increased, and the yellow light began to be replaced with red. The console screamed a warning siren, alerting to the approaching critical mass point.

Jeremy ignored all of these, instead feeling the motorcycle as it built towards the final moment. Without thought, just an instinct, Jeremy activated the final release control. A roar of fire, a scream of power, and Jeremy flew. In the moment, Jeremy felt everything: the motorcycle beneath him, the vibrations ceased, the wind as he moved within it, and he sensed rather than saw a great fiery creature. Its body of flames as it raced along with him, its presence powerful and strong yet peaceful.

The moment of clarity passed, and the motorcycle returned to the yellow stage. Twisting the controls, Jeremy spun the bike to a ninety-degree angle, at which an automatic system engaged deceleration jets, slowing the bike until it stopped. Smoke from the tires enveloped Jeremy and the bike, dust kicked up from the road blew around him creating a swirling beige cloud of grit which flew up his nose.

Finally, the bike came to a dead stop, which Jeremy followed with a loud sneeze. Turning left, Jeremy glimpsed the tall spires of the city through the vaporous tendrils of heat emanating from the old pavement of the road. He had traveled at least one-hundred miles within the span of minutes, seconds perhaps.

The console crackled with static, and Billy's voice came over the radio. "Jeremy, you there? Are you alright?" Engaging the two-way communication, Jeremy said "I'm alright" cheering broke over the radio, clearly the gang having been waiting to hear from him since leaving. Billy came back on "That's great Jem, how was it?", Jeremy couldn't respond except with a laugh which broke out of him in a rush of delayed adrenaline and euphoria "It was incredible! Absolutely Amazing! I FELT ALIVE!" he yelled to the world.

Jumping off the bike, Jeremy did a jig, shouted to the sky his exultation until the high wore off. Straddling the seat again, Jeremy said "I'm on my way back, see ya in a few" and switched off the radio. Kicking the release control, Jeremy took the handles in his hands once again, spun around toward the city and released the brake locking the front wheel.

A smile gracing his mouth as the rendition of the memory ended, Shepard saw Tali was tense once again, hearing of the danger he went through to join the gang. "Once I rejoined the others, they gave me a custom helmet to wear and we rode together in formation down Mulholland drive, a rich area of the city. Billy insisted I take his left flank, a place of honor for succeeding in my trials, and we rode up the long street celebrating by flaring up our exhaust pipes", a slight tilt of her head indicated she hadn't understood that last part "flaring the exhaust pipe is what happens when excess fuel escapes into the exhaust and burns off with the heat, creating a flare".

Tali settled as the tension in her shoulders gone as she let go of her complaint, she said "I know talking about this isn't easy, and thank you for telling me, but why reveal it now? Has something happened?".

Lacing his fingers together, a habit as he organized his thoughts into a coherent line "as I said last night, I received a message; it was from a secure storage facility where I hid all of my possessions before leaving for the Alliance. The Reds did a lot of jobs on the side, sort of on the gray side of legality but nothing outright deadly or dangerous, and we got paid, sometimes very well by satisfied clients. When I left, I hacked the account Billy had under a false name and transferred everything into my own. Then I rented a storage room on a long-term rental, locked away everything, and became an Alliance Marine". Sitting straight and locking his eyes on Tali Shepard said "the rental is up, and I want to…" he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Standing, Tali sat next to him on the couch and took one of his hands in her own, "you want to come to terms with your past". He nodded unable to speak as he remembered his old life; what Tali said next brought Shepard out of his musings "I'll help you in any way I possibly can". Squeezing her hand, Shepard said in a whisper "Thank You". Squaring his shoulders, Shepard called "Joker", and the pilot's voice came over the intercom "morning Commander, Tali, what can I do for you this fair day?"

Looking at Tali with a raised eyebrow, Shepard asked "Joker, are you spying on us?", "no, never, not me Commander; I would never spy on you" Joker replied in mock gave a low chuckle and Shepard just shook his head, "Joker, set a course for Sol, destination Earth". "Missin' the ol' clump of dirt you grew up on Commander?" Joker asked in his normal tone of mock seriousness. "Unfinished business" Shepard replied; "destination set, ETA thirty-six hours" came the pilot's reply.

Hidden on the dark side of a moon in the Krogan DMZ sector, the Normandy SR-2 came alive and sped toward the distinctive blue star of the Mass Relay. Upon approach, the bolt of element zero lightning engulfed the ship within a mass-less envelope, allowing the Normandy to accelerate at incalculable speed out of the sector. Within the ship, Shepard wondered if he should be elated to return or dread at what the past still held for him.

_Author's Note:_

_A longer chapter than my previous, but necessary; I admit, writing the scene of his first trial was exciting, as I listened to my own metal. And then when writing the scene with Shepard on his first ride, I listened to the very song this piece claims its namesake._

_Again, all rights of foundational content belong to Bioware, and any additional content, people, places and objects are mostly my own creations inspired by multiple sources._

_Finally, read, review, comment if you wish but only constructive critiques and thought out criticism. No foul language, unless used in a positive context, and no trashing, I write this for personal enjoyment and I post it to entertain others because I enjoy it._

_Arrivederci,_

_Tutor Verum _


	3. Return of the Prodigal Son

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 3 – Return of the Prodigal Son

At the far edges of the solar system, known to humans as Sol, the Charon Secondary Mass Relay came alive. Its dual rings, holding the element zero core stable, increased in speed and the length of the relay sparked and flashed with power as a connection to another secondary mass relay established. As the relay completed the link to its correspondence, a streak of blue flew through the empty space. The blue light dissipated as it reached the relay, revealing the Normandy. Moving away from the relay, Joker called across the ship "transit complete, moving away from the Charon Mass Relay. Course laid in for Earth."

In his quarters, Shepard was engrossed in the fifth chapter of a novel, reading it from his omnitool. The announcement stole his attention from the line he was reading; scowling, Shepard tried to find his place again; it was irksome trying to find the line again, and it was one of his personal irritancies to be interrupted or to stop reading in the middle of a line.

Finding his place, Shepard marked it with a bookmark and closed the book. Getting to his feet, he stretched and bent backwards, sighing in pleasure as his spine popped satisfactorily. Shepard squared his shoulders, checked his uniform in the mirror and entered the elevator to take his place as the Normandy approached Earth's sensor range.

Arriving at deck two, Shepard strolled to the bridge, crew members snapping to attention or greeting him with 'Commander' as he passed. Eyes roaming the crew at their stations performing their duties brought a small smile to his face.

These men and women had risked their lives to fight for a common cause, had accepted aliens aboard a human-dominant vessel built by a human-supremacist organization, and willingly fought against the Collectors, and the larger threat of the Reapers because he, Shepard, did so. Recalling a lesson from his drill instructor, Gunnery Sergeant Ellison "_Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys. Look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even onto death_".

That one from Sun Tzu had always interested him, especially when he'd risen to an officers' position and had soldiers to command. Understanding of that line had come with experience, acquired the hard way with the events of Akuze. Losing his unit to that Thresher Maw forced him to recall what had happened with the Reds. Shaking his head, Shepard let go of those memories and continued toward the bridge.

From the starboard viewport, Shepard could see the gas giant Neptune as the Normandy sailed through the unknown towards home, just as the grand sailing ships of Earth in the days before self-powered vessels. That thought brought another memory of the Reds, a pleasant one before the events which tore him away from his first family. A trip up the coast of California to different towns, the biggest being San Francisco; amazingly, it was August and Los Angeles was in a heat wave, but the city of San Francisco was shrouded in cold fog.

Billy and Isabella had taken him to a tiny park at the northern edge of the city, called San Francisco Maritime National Park. The place had old ships, two of the ships had sails and the biggest had looked as if it were a pirate ship. It wasn't, but the sight of the ship was awesome; simple but grand in the way she had sat silently in the waters, an old lady resting upon the laurels of long days on the open ocean.

"Approach control, this is PSV Normandy, requesting vector and berth at the Los Angeles Spaceport", Joker said; that brought Shepard out of his musings. Through the viewport, the Normandy flew by Saturn and its magnificent rings. The delay between transmission and reception of the request at the orbital stations around Earth and the reply was a barely noticeable, "Acknowledged Normandy, you are cleared for landing; proceed to dock 9, berth 3-27."

"Roger control, proceeding to dock 9, berth 327 acknowledged" Joker replied and cut the channel. The Normandy passed through the asteroid belt and Mars within minutes. Closing fast, the blue speck in the ever black and star-speckled void of space grew in size.

Passing the Moon, Shepard heard footsteps approaching the bridge. The rhythm and pattern of sound those feet made were distinct; without turning Shepard knew who it was. A second later, Tali stood at his side.

Earth grew larger in both viewports, the blue of the oceans shining beautifully. One of his history lessons with the Reds taught Shepard about the first astronauts, and how many of them described the site of Earth as breathtaking. Shepard had seen the site many times before, but it still stole his breath at the beauty of it.

"Keelah" Tali said, equally in awe at the site. "I've seen pictures of the Quarian homeworld, Rannoch, but this is…" she couldn't finish the sentence. "I bet I'll have a similar reaction to Rannoch when we see it Tali" Shepard said, edging close enough for his left elbow to brush against Tali's right arm. She slid her hand around his arm and held at the elbow; glancing down, Shepard saw her eyes were half-lidded and he knew a smile graced her beautiful face.

As the Normandy approached Earth's atmosphere, Joker began inputting descent vectors and thrust output. Shifting the angle of descent, the Normandy entered the outer atmosphere. Plasma traces coursed over the hull, surrounding the ship in a nimbus of white fire. Entering the lower atmosphere, the nimbus dissipated and finally flickered out of existence. Plummeting thousands of feet in seconds, Joker angled the Normandy into a dive and powered up the mass-reduction systems, allowing the Normandy atmospheric flight. Breaking through the clouds of the troposphere, the deep blue of the Pacific Ocean stretched out beneath the ship towards the horizon.

"Joker, think you could bring us down further?" Shepard asked; Tali turned her head, about to say it was a bad idea, but EDI got to the punch first "Commander, standard atmospheric flight regulations strictly state an elevation of no less than ten-thousand feet is required for ships entering an inhabited planets' atmosphere, no less than 15,000 for primary worlds, such as Earth". Joker caught Shepard's and rolled his eyes in annoyance. Smiling, "EDI, this ship breaks hundreds of regulations just by existing, a couple more won't be overly harmful"

Shepard said; remembering another fact, Shepard finished "also local or even Alliance authorities can't do much accept send a strongly worded letter to my mail account; SPecTRe status being what it is, after all". Joker smirked and EDI responded "of course Commander, the choice-and consequences, are once again yours, however. I did warn you".

No reply, but the nose of the ship dipped slightly and sunk lower into the atmosphere. Approaching 1500 feet above the water, Joker righted the Normandy, decreasing the angle and finally leveling the ship. The Normandy cast a great shadow over the deep blue water; from this elevation, the naked eye could make out the calm surface of the ocean.

From the bridge, Tali saw something rise from the water and expel a great spout of water. Her gasp of amazement drew Shepard's attention; coming to her side, he smiled at the sight of the pack of whales below.

"EDI, what species is that down there?" Shepard asked. "Humpbacks, Commander. They are currently migrating for warmer waters." Unable to tear her eyes away from the majestic creatures, Tali asked "what are they?" Smiling at her reaction, Shepard said "Humpback whales, a marine mammal. I once saw a pack of them when I was a kid".

Leaning forward, and surreptitiously placing a hand around Tali's waist, Shepard peered through the viewport and watch the pack as well. Tali leaned in and rested her head on his chest; Shepard responded by sliding his hand further around her waist to hold her closer.

The Normandy flew over the expansive Pacific Ocean, and all too soon the great skyscrapers of a city were visible on the horizon. Joker pulled the ship higher and began docking procedures for entering the spaceport. "L.A. Municipal Spaceport, this is the PSV Normandy, we are on approach West-North-West at 5000 KPH, height 10,000, prepared to receive final docking procedures" Joker said over the comm to the approach control station operator. "Normandy, disengage, repeat disengage, you are outside set approach vectors. Disengage and attempt second approach" the operator replied.

Stepping forward, Shepard spoke over the comm channel "This is Jeremy Shepard, commanding officer of the frigate PSV Normandy; I am an agent of the office of Citadel Special Tactics and Reconnaissance". Activating his Omni-tool, Shepard transmitted his SPECTRE ID code over the open channel. A momentary pause on the other end before the operator came back "ID confirmed Agent Shepard; your ship has been cleared. Proceed to Dock nine, bay three."

As the spaceport came into view of the bridge viewports, Shepard gazed upon the city below. From this height, nothing had changed since he'd left it behind. Same tall buildings, cars flying through the air at hundreds of kilometers per hour; the same as it had been so long ago. He wondered if the city had changed at all or not, or just the perception had.

The view of the city changed to a view of the spaceport dock as the Normandy entered its designated bay. Joker powered down engines and the mass effect core as the docking arms locked the ship into the suspended cradle. Opening a ship-wide channel, Shepard said "All Crew, attention: the ship will be in dock for three days, with possible extension. Remain within range of the ship until further orders. Shepard out." Closing the channel, Shepard turned and walked with measured steps back to the CIC and the elevator.

Tali saw his posture and became immediately worried; shoulders stiff and back straight, hands laced together behind him, and no easy stride in his walk. She knew that posture only happened when Shepard was tense and thinking hard. Joining him as the elevator opened, Tali remained quiet despite the question she burned to ask.

A sigh and she turned to see Shepard had the distant cast in his eyes which appeared during his renditions of the past. The stiff set of his shoulders eased, hands unclenching and falling to rest at his sides again; the far off cast in his eyes also retreated and his back relaxed, "I'll change and then we can head out" Shepard said.

The elevator stopped at deck one; before Shepard could step out, Tali took hold of his forearm and held it. Sliding one hand down his arm and into his hand, she held on tighter; Shepard turned to her, but the mask hid any expression of her face. "I'm here for you" Tali said, stepping closer, her eyes intent on his "Talk to me, please; you didn't last night or this morning. What happened after you became a full member of the gang?"

Eyes downcast, Shepard said "When I was seventeen, everything began to change. A new member came into the gang. This guy came to us, said he was from another motorcycle gang on the East Coast and wanted to join the Reds instead. We should have thrown him out; he was…he just made everyone around him uncomfortable, but he was smart and got the gang a job running goods around the city.

It paid well, enough that we could eat everyday; before this guy came, we always had to worry about money for food, parts and maintenance for our bikes. Before him, it was always a choice" stepping out of the elevator, Shepard entered the cabin and made for the drawers on his side of the bed.

He pulled out jeans and a t-shirt; Shepard began to remove his officers' uniform. Folding each article of clothing carefully, a habit ingrained during basic training, he stowed the clothes away in the second drawer.

Tali sat on the bed as he was pulling on the jeans and tucked in the shirt. Shepard donned a lightweight button-up shirt for the year-round heat in Los Angeles, a pair of sunglasses to partly hide his face, and a belt with a brass N7 buckle, a personal favorite he'd retrieved from the wreckage of Normandy SR-1.

Shepard sighed, fingering the sunglasses before taking them off and placing them in the breast pocket of his shirt. He sat down on the bed; hands clenched together "the guy who changed, and in the end destroyed the gang…he went by the name of Finch". Tali tensed at the name, remembering two years ago when Shepard met Finch outside of the alley to Chora's Den.

Shepard hadn't mentioned the depth of his gang life then, but it was clear that Shepard had desperately wanted to put a bullet, or several, into Finch when it was revealed who Kurt Weisman really was: a terrible xenophobe and attempted mass murderer.

Shepard hadn't killed Finch then, instead told Finch the other races of the galaxy, and especially the Council, would not believe any of the stories Finch or his friends told about Shepard. Moving closer, Tali reached across Shepard and turned his face toward her.

"Tell me, Jem; you've told me so much already, and I'll help anyway I can", a big smile broke across Shepard's face. He took her hand, kissed it, "how did I get so lucky to find you in this whole galaxy?" Though he couldn't see her face, Shepard knew Tali had a smirk on her lips "I recall a…conversation we had in engineering" she said. Shepard recalled those conversations and a smirk replaced the smile "you mean when we flirted".

Tali giggled, "maybe" she said "I recall one in particular: a certain dashing commander and a young woman who he rescues and lets her join his crew, and then flies into danger to save the galaxy" she laughed again.

Those moments with Tali had been some of the most awkward, and albeit entertaining, conversations Shepard ever had with her. With his mind lightened by the mood Tali had created, Shepard again organized his memories "Finch came to us when I was seventeen, and it didn't take him long to become a member"

_Los Angeles, California_

_United North American States_

_September 2, 2171_

Frustration coursed through Jeremy as he ran his hand through the tool chest, "Odin damn you, where is that wrench?" he said. Without finding the tool, Jeremy slammed the chest closed; it rattled, almost fell over before Jeremy could steady it. The chest was heavy, requiring him to brace it with his legs and push it back to a standing position. Jeremy huffed and began his search anew. Checking the tables and other tool chest, he finally found what he was looking for: his favorite ratchet wrench. The tool was well made, balanced and fit well in his hand; with practiced ease, Jeremy spun wrench between his fingers.

After a few twirls, Jeremy grasped the wrench by the base of the handle and threw it into the air. It flew, spun and dropped; just as he was about to catch it, a hand reached across past his face and caught the wrench instead. A momentary shock froze Jeremy in place, but he twisted away and faced…Billy stood there with the wrench in hand and a frown.

"I've told you before not to do that; if you slipped, the wrench would either break or the wrench would break your head wide open. Either way, we couldn't afford that". Jeremy knew that much already; the gang was strapped for cash, no one had called in for a job and none of the other members had found one either. The whole gang had all, literally, needed to tighten their belts recently.

Buying food was always priority and the bought at the cheapest store in 'Old Town'-the old, mostly abandoned part of the city where only the poorest and most destitute dwelled. Tyr always made parts for their bikes, material scavenged from junk yards, melted down and re-forged, but he still needed money to purchase the most difficult parts.

Crossing his arms, Jeremy said "I've seen you do that same thing more times than I can count, not really the best example to set". The look on Billy's face changed quickly: anger, frustration and finally settled on irritation "which is why I always add 'do as I say, not as I do'". Jeremy shrugged and held out his hand for the wrench.

Billy started to hand it over, but drew it away before Jeremy could grab it "no more playing with the wrench; it's a tool, not a toy". Jeremy huffed, "alright, I'll be more careful with it". Billy hesitated before handing the wrench over. Jeremy turned to his bike and slid underneath the chassis; an assembly bolt, one of many which held the entirety together, needed a small adjustment.

At the moment it wasn't serious, but it could have been. Jeremy and everyone else in the gang inspected their bikes thoroughly after every ride. Afterward, each member inspected another's to make sure they hadn't missed anything. Inspecting your own bike was routine, but to let another do it as well was a level of trust reserved for only a few. For Jeremy, that included Billy, Isabella and Sebastian, who was as close to a real brother he could ever want.

"I got a call earlier from an old friend" Billy said above him, "I had told him about our money situation and he's sending over one of his own gang to help us out. My friend says this guy is good with finding money". Jeremy slid out from the bike; the assembly bolt was now properly tight, and he looked up at Billy questioning "who's this friend? And who's he sending?" Billy grunted a laugh, "Is' asked the same thing, just the same way too". Billy turned to him, "as I said, the guy is an old friend; he's another gang leader, similar to us guy there sending is supposed to be good at finding paying work and handling numbers".

Jeremy heard footsteps, indicating Billy was pacing, a habit of nerves and agitation. "He wants into the gang for what he can offer, and if he comes through…I'll consider it". Jeremy abruptly stopped in his work; Billy would CONSIDER IT! Letting in an outsider, even one from another gang, without the education first; Jeremy slid out from underneath his bike, almost clipping his scalp on the frame, and sprang to his feet.

Billy merely stood where he was nonplussed, not registering the swift movements Jeremy had just made. "Why would you let someone in without first putting through all the training I had to go through first? He may be from another gang, but we're our own gang: we have our own rules, our own lifestyle, unique only to us. You told me once there were hundreds of people, thousands the same as us, but all different. Why let in an outsider merely based on what he can do for us?" Jeremy argued, heart beating fast at the thought of someone else in the gang, an unknown, acquiring a position without trial.

Billy looked away, and that caused Jeremy to fear greater "It's not just money, eating and fixing the bikes. There's more, but those issues are mine alone" he said, turning to fix Jeremy with an uncompromising demeanor; the squared set of his shoulders, the firm line of his mouth and the steely gaze behind his amber eyes, all meant to convey the message Jeremy was to follow, not question.

Jeremy backed down, dropping his eyes to the floor and backing away "I understand". Billy clapped him on the shoulder, shook him, and then embraced him. Jeremy could feel the tension in Billy's muscles ease, a sign Billy was relieved of a great anxiety. The situation, whatever it could be, was far greater than just money. At the moment, Jeremy couldn't comprehend what was wrong.

Billy released him, "I'm going out to meet him personally, and Sebastian is going with me. I want you to go, too" he said. Jeremy nodded in agreement, but asked "why not Isabella?" Billy shook his head, "she had a…a stomach ache this morning, and didn't want to get out of bed. She'll be fine" but Jeremy felt Billy didn't believe his own words. Billy clapped him on the shoulder, "be ready in thirty and we'll head out"

Thirty minutes later, Jeremy and Sebastian were waiting in the living area, dressed in their riding outfits, but Billy had not yet appeared. He was up on the top floor of the sleeping quarters, in the room he and Isabella shared. Sebastian sat in his chair, the one immediately to the left of the couch directly in front of the T.V. Jeremy reclined on the couch, tapping his foot without knowing of the action, and Sebastian was reading, as always. A door opened, and Jeremy saw Billy exit the room.

His shoulders were set, eyes forward and his gait determined; descending the steps, he passed through the living area and shouted "hi-yup". At the command, Jeremy and Sebastian leapt to their feet on reflex and marched with Billy toward their bikes. Mounting 'Attero Dominatus', Jeremy pulled his helmet over his head. As with all of the gangs' helmets, Jeremy's featured a custom design created by Tyr after his Trial of Spirit; the helmet was crafted in the shape of the phoenix, the great bird of fire.

Billy had explained the Phoenix, upon its death rose again from the ashes, stronger than before. Any person marked with the sign of the Phoenix would endure great trials in life, but those would lead to great reward and strengthen the person for what was to come next. Jeremy thought the idea was cool, becoming greater than before; whatever these trials of life were, he could take it. The gang would always support him and be the strength he needed to overcome anything.

Billy gripped the handles of his bike, and twisted the throttle at the same time kicking the ignition. His engine roared to life, sparks and some trace fire eschewing from the twin tail-pipes running the length of the body. Sebastian sat atop 'Orgullo del Pueblo', a stout muscular machine inspired from an old motorcycle company which Sebastian affectionately "Harley D".

Revving the engine, Sebastian sat as if he were a king upon his steed. Jeremy lay length-wise along the seat, grabbed the controls and the bike awakened to his touch. The engine started with a growl, which deepened until the machine shook with the hidden power it possessed, begging to be unleashed.

The great warehouse doors opened; at Billy's signal, the three riders released their breaks and rode out of the building. Their speed was steady as they rode, and Billy led the way through the broken streets of Old Los Angeles. Passing through neighborhoods once vibrant with life and culture of the vast multitudes of people who once lived here, they now lay decrepit and unlived, a place lost to memory.

The streets were littered with the refuse of society; all kinds of refuse, from trash and garbage thrown into the streets, to feces and urine and dead animals. No services were provided for these old areas, no water or sanitation or garbage recovery. It was merely abandoned to fester and die, uncared for by the rich who lived within the walled in skyscrapers of the new city.

Jeremy hated living here; seeing human beings left to die without any sign of human dignity from the world at large. They rode past it all on their own business, but all three watched as the scenes changed before them: an old, shambling woman with barely rags covering her hunger-ravaged body, looking more a corpse than alive. Trash piles, rotted and smelling of decay, several feet high, mountains of refuse. A rat ate the garbage, its own body desiccated from hunger; out of nowhere something snatched the rat and buried its face in the animal's stomach. Jeremy didn't get a good look at it, but it was big enough to have been a child.

Little changed along their route; Billy signaled and, in unison, all three turned left, riding down an old street which would bring them into what was once known as Hollywood. The old luxuries of the area, the palm trees and exotic plants had mostly died out from lack of tending. From cracks in the pavement, plants grew and some thrived, but most was just the same as everywhere else. Riding further, they came upon an old movie company lot. Just as with the Reds, these old warehouses and large buildings were inhabited by squatters and gangs.

None of them were close to the Reds, but they were sometimes good for getting information and sometimes had news for jobs. Beyond that, however, none of these gangs were trusted with anything related to the Reds, and no one associated were allowed to become members the Reds...ever.

Riding through the old movie lot, Jeremy caught glimpses of people inside the old buildings. Jeremy ignored them and followed Billy through the lot until arriving at one warehouse. Moving around back, Billy slowed, stopped and shut off the engine. Sebastian and Jeremy, having followed suit, removed their helmets and placed them on their seats. Billy jerked his head toward a door which led into the warehouse.

The interior was mostly dark, but some light poured through an opening in the ceiling, illuminating a tense scene. A small group stood by a long stretch flying cruiser, an expensive Asari model if Jeremy guessed correctly, and he usually did guess correctly. A lone man, wearing riding leathers stood before them, negotiating with a man hidden in shadow.

Jeremy could tell the situation was tense, but it seemed to be ending. After a minute, the shadowed man stepped forward, not completely but enough to shake the man in leathers hand. The small group, excluding the rider, got back into their cruiser and left. The man turned, saw the open door and the three men in rider leathers and walked over.

Average height and build, not fat but not at all muscular; he had, what Jeremy thought, was a rat's face. The kind of face only men who were rats could have, men who could find opportunity but scurry away just as quickly with little or none of the aftermath falling upon them.

Billy stepped before the rat-faced men, fist over his heart "By Odin and the Gods, welcome Brother" he stated. The rat-faced man placed his fist against his heart "May the Gods of Metal favor you and yours, Brother". Billy extended his hand, and the rat-faced man grasped his forearm "with you, I believe the Gods have indeed favored us" he said "when our mutual friend told me of you, I was not given a name". The rat-faced man chuckled, a smirk creasing the left of his face but his eyes held no humor. "Never really had a name, joined my gang so young I've forgotten it, but I go by Finch"

The memory of first meeting Finch, that slick-as-oil bastard who took everything, blissfully came to a close in Shepard's mind. All of this time, telling his story to Tali, it felt as if he was nearly reliving the times from so long ago. The memories played as if on a projector in his mind, and Shepard repeated what he saw. "Finch took over the gang's money troubles; within a month, we were eating regularly, three we didn't have to choose between riding and eating. We could afford both. No one questioned where the money came from; none of us ever did so long as ate and rode our bikes."

"And what about Isabella?" Tali asked. Her accent leant the name a beautiful lilt, which tempered the painful edge of the memories. How strange, such a small thing as the name of a loved one spoken by another who is loved could have such an affect. "She was better after that day, and rode with us on many of the jobs Finch set up. My favorite one involved a kind of relay race across the city, handing off the client's package from one rider to the next to distract and confuse the police as they chased after us".

Shepard chuckled at the memory, his eyes once again cast back in time to that job "Sebastian rode with it before me. Once I had the satchel slung over across my chest, I took off as fast as I could while Seb took half the cops off my tail. I reached Isabella, who finished the job, and did the same for her as Seb did". Shepard got to his feet, Tali rising with him, and both entered the elevator to deck two. Walking through the CIC in silence, Tali knew Finch had betrayed the Reds; whatever he did, Tali could not fathom the pain it caused Shepard.

They reached the forward airlock and stood with a small group of the crew who were disembarking. Tali saw Ken and Gabby, who had taken their friendship beyond that since the Collector mission; Jacob, easily seen for his height, and Kasumi together, hand in hand. Jacob had changed from his usual attire to a blazer and jeans, while Kasumi wore a hat with a wide brim and sunglasses, always to keep her face hidden from cameras or prying eyes.

Kasumi saw her and smiled a subtle greeting. The airlock door opened and the group of Normandy crew entered. The air cycled and the exterior door opened onto a milling crowd of people boarding ships or entering the terminal. Shepard surreptitiously slid the sunglasses back onto his face.

The group of Normandy crew members passed through the security checkpoint without hindrance. Tali passed through and joined Shepard beyond the security checkpoint; she reached for the crook of his right arm and held it. He smiled and led her to the taxi stand beyond the automatic doors. Summoning a car, Shepard said "About a year after Finch had joined the gang, some things began to change".

The car arrived, Shepard took the pilot's position and Tali sat beside him. The car lifted into the air and sped away. The city stretched out in front of them, great skyscrapers looming far above while the ground was obscured by cars. From Shepard's stories of his life, however, she knew the ground was populated with the refuse of all types and those shunned by society.

"Finch brought in clients who were…shifty, just as he was. Some of them made my skin crawl just talking with them. But we never said a thing; we got the package, delivered it and got paid. One day, I got curious, stupid curious, the kind that gets you killed: I opened one package I was supposed to deliver across town"

_Los Angeles, California_

_United North American States_

_August 5, 2172_

Jeremy knelt over the package. Terror coursed through him, a poison of hesitation. The client, a shifty, greasy-haired bastard who smelled of ripe sweat and urine, had told him to deliver it across town to another guy, this one over five hundred pounds, smoked hand-rolled cigarettes which smelled of dead skunks. The last time, and thankfully only previous time he had met the fat guy, Isabella was with him.

She had shoved the package in the guy's face, and turned to leave. Jeremy collected the money, and noticed the client watching Isabella leave, watching her ass specifically. After that encounter with the fat man, Jeremy had prayed, literally prayed, never to make another delivery for the fat man ever again, a prayer for himself and Isabella, and the rest of the gang.

This delivery, the greasy-haired guy had said, while in an alcohol and drug induced stupor, not to open the package, that there would be "dire consequences" if he did, to which the greasy bastard had laughed until a wet stain spread across the crotch of his ragged pants. Slowly, Jeremy opened the satchel; inside was a simple metal case with just a simple latch holding the lid closed. Pulling the lip of the latch forward, the spring released the held tension and the top opened slightly. Opening the lid fully, Jeremy beheld six small tightly wrapped plastic bags, each containing white powder.

The fear surged forward; Jeremy shut the lid quickly, stuffed the case back in the satchel and threw it in the trash. Jumping onto his bike, the machine came alive at his touch; the tires spun, the engine roared to life speeding Jeremy away from the alley. 'Drugs' Jeremy thought 'we're running drugs for these bastards, and Billy agreed to it'. That thought was the worst; Jeremy gripped the throttle harder, and the bike responded. Jeremy thumbed the radio via a control on the left handle. He tuned it to Billy's personal radio.

"Shadow calling Baron, come in" he said nearly shouting. A few seconds, and Billy came on "Baron here, talk to me Shadow". Jeremy didn't respond for a brief moment, fear stilled his voice. "Package did not arrive. The package did not arrive". Jeremy took a breath, trying to get calm but it was difficult "Billy. It's drugs; the package was full of drugs". Billy didn't respond for a minute, then "get somewhere safe, I'm on my way". Jeremy switched the radio to standby, and rode to the nearest safe point in the city, a small building down the street from the condemned Graumin's Chinese Theatre.

In the taxi, possibly above where he had ridden that very same day so many years ago, Shepard fell silent again. Tali felt sick that Shepard was used in that way, first by the man who Shepard had thought of as a father and then by that bosh'tet Finch. The more she heard, the more she wanted to shove her shotgun into some part of Finch until the clip was overheated, and possibly shove that down his throat until the man was cooked alive from inside his own body.

Thoughts such as imagining more and more terrible deaths for Finch occupied her mind until Shepard reached over and held her hand. His fingers twined together with her, his thumb stroking the palm in slow movements. She settled back into her seat, letting the tension that had built in her body go. The anger still festered and burned, but she hid that behind the calming effect of Shepard's simple gesture. He held her hand for a while longer before returning both to the taxi's control console.

"Billy had to repay the client what the drugs were worth, but no fallout beyond that". Tali hesitated for a few seconds, then asked "you told him about the drugs" it wasn't really a question, she could guess but she wanted Shepard to continue. He nodded "I told him; he said he had suspicions but, again, he told me we needed the money and explained why".

Shepard stopped, his jaw clenching and turning his head away to peer out the window. Tali couldn't see, but Shepard was attempting to hold back tears which threatened to break from his eyes. "Isabella was sick" he said simply. Tali did not respond to that, she didn't need to. Watching her mother die from sickness, the feeling was indescribable and terribly painful.

"There were medications which could help, but there was no cure and she always had to be on medication. Three sets in the morning and four in the evening, plus medication to make her hungry so she could eat. It ate away at her, slowly" Shepard paused, took a breath "the medication was expensive, and we couldn't buy from any hospital in the city, because we were not registered with their medical service. No other facilities existed outside which could provide the medicine. So we bought from dealers, and they charged extra for smuggling it outside".

The memories of that time, once when he had accompanied Billy to a purchase, sickened Shepard. Peering through the widow again, he could tell nothing had changed. The rich still lived in their great towers, with clean water, food, homes and available health care. None of them cared for the destitute outside their sheltered paradise.

"A week after I found Finch was using the gang to deliver drugs, I was sent on another job. That's when…everything" he couldn't finish. Tapping the autopilot, Shepard slid his chair back a small distance. Removing the sunglasses, left arm across his chest with the right resting atop, he pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit when he was attempting to It reign in his emotions. Tali sat, wishing she could do more than just give emotional support. Witnessing his pain rent her heart, but she could do so little. Shepard breathed deep through his nose, exhaled "that was the final job I went on for the gang, but it was a trap".

_Los Angeles, California_

_United North American States_

_August 12, 2171_

Jeremy sat in an armchair, reading a personal favorite of Billy's he'd borrowed. He'd come to understand why the book was addictive, it was well-written and the story arc was great. But for the past week, he'd been unable to read more than ten pages. After finding the drugs as the package for the fat client, any thoughts of reading were quickly replaced with what would happen or could happen.

Out of nowhere, the book in his hands was sharply pulled away. Jeremy looked up; Finch stood over him, the book held mockingly over his head baiting to be grabbed.

"Take it kid, if you want it" Finch mocked, a stupid grin across that smug rat face of his. Jeremy ignored the bait, sitting up a little straighter and staring Finch directly in his eyes "I'm not going to reach for that book, so you may as well stop dangling it over my head" he said, then smirked "your arm will get tired otherwise". Finch scowled, tossing the book, hitting Jeremy in the chest. Ignoring that as well, which made Finch scowl more, Jeremy said "what do you want, Finch? Are you here to bait me with childish pranks, or is there something actually important?"

Finch crossed his arms, his scowl now a deep frown "you shouldn't talk to me that way. If not for me, you'd being eating trash from a dumpster by now". Finch pointed a finger at him, directly before his face. Jeremy wanted to grab it and break it, but restrained himself. "You should respect those who are better than you, kid".

Jeremy crossed his arms; he would not rise to Finch's little games. Finch had acted this way since he'd first arrived with the gang, belittling those he thought were lesser than he was, which was mostly everyone; most of the gang ignored it, a few attempted to put Finch in his place, but he never stopped. Billy had once caught Finch staring at Isabella once, staring where he should not. The look on Finch's face, and bulge in his pants, made what he was thinking apparent.

Billy had dragged Finch outside, and hit him so hard across the face his whole body spun. Billy had proceeded to plant his boot on Finch's neck, pressing hard, and telling Finch if he ever stared at Isabella that way again, he'd kill Finch. No humor, no hollow threat, and to emphasize Billy had twisted his boot. The bruise had lasted for a week and a half.

"I got a job that needs doing. You're alright ridin' a bike, I guess, so you're on it" Finch said, handing Jeremy a note. The note had the address and name of the pickup location, an old house on Beverly Hills Jeremy had been to on another job once before Finch came. Having learned just to take Finch's orders and go, Jeremy stood, grabbed his winged helmet and mounted his bike.

Once Jeremy had moved a few miles away from the warehouse, he turned on his radio "Baron, this is Shadow, over". Waiting a few seconds, without a response, Jeremy tried again. No Response. He tried the other members, but they were silent as well. Finch had sent them all on jobs earlier, but none had returned home.

The ride to the pickup location was uneventful; the condemned streets of Los Angeles were quiet, not a single gunshot, the cry of a hungry child or the great thumping sounds of the smaller gangs playing loud music. The lack of these sounds pushed his paranoia higher. Turning to move into the old neighborhoods of Beverly Hills, his unease did not abate. The old houses, once occupied by people without worries of hunger or shelter, stood silent and abandoned. A sense of being watched overshadowed the paranoia.

Turning down one final street, Jeremy saw the house near a cliff. Out front stood several motorcycles, some of them Billy recognized: they were the bikes of the other Reds, mingled together with bikes from other gangs which populated Los Angeles. Some carried symbols Jeremy recognized, the Dragons' gang and the Skulls emblems such as, but others were unknown.

Approaching the door to the house, Jeremy saw it was open. Someone inside the house opened the door wider, a member of the Skulls gang with their distinctive face tattoo of a skull. The guy was bald but had a long mustache "Finch sent you" the guy asked. Jeremy nodded, and the guy jerked his head, inviting him inside. The entrance foyer was large, to one side was a glass wall and a spiraling staircase led down a floor on the left.

The smell of alcohol was everywhere, mingled with the smell of something burning. Jeremy followed the guy towards the back of the house and up another set of stairs. A new smell hit Billy hard: it was fetid, gut-wrenching and Jeremy kept his throat from flexing to puke.

At the top of the stairs, Jeremy found a thick column of black smoke rising through a hole in the ceiling. The smoke rose from what had once been a Jacuzzi tub, turned into a fire pit. Around the fire pit, body parts were strewn everywhere, and blood soaked the old carpet. The sight sent Jeremy into shock. One part of his mind was analytical: body parts cut by fast-moving tool, chainsaw in corner covered in blood.

Another part recognized the members of his gang: Sebastian, head and arms being thrown into the fire, torso and legs waiting. Two others were recognized as well, Billy, still alive but on his knees and covered in blood, held down two burly gang members.

And Isabella; she two was alive, but crying. She looked up and saw Jeremy, and new tears poured forth. A gang member slapped her hard across the face, and the other holding her down laughed. This guy, lanky but fit, reached down a squeezed Isabella's left breast, hard. The reaction from Isabella could only be described as animalistic instinct.

Her face twisted in a grimace of rage, her eyelids stretched and she bit the offending hand. Her teeth sank through flesh, cut tissue and hit bone. She wrenched her head and tore the guy's thumb off. The lanky gang member screamed, another hit Isabella across the head with a length of pipe. The blow connected with her temple, and she slumped.

From where he stood, Jeremy, his senses sharpened from adrenaline now coursing through his veins, saw Isabella look at him, smile, and die. Everything was in slow motion: the members of the other gang, shocked into inaction by the show of violence, stood dumbstruck. Billy, eyes wide gazing upon his dead friend and lover, seemed to crumble before Jeremy's eyes.

Tears rolled down Billy's face; turning, Billy locked eyes with Jeremy. Those eyes were dead, as if his soul was partly gone. Billy breathed a single word, Jeremy could not hear but the word was plain: run. Gazing upon the violence, Jeremy felt the muzzle of a pistol placed against the back of his skull.

A part of him wanted the trigger to be pulled, to join Isabella and all of his brothers and sisters; to no longer bear witness to the scene of carnage. Another part, primal and buried beneath the conscious mind of a human being, arose and became stronger than the wish to die. His vision narrowed, and an overpowering rage took hold of him. He was no longer Jeremy Shepard, adopted son of Billy and Isabella; he was an animal, consumed by instinct to survive.

Spinning on his heel, away from the barrel of the pistol, Jeremy grabbed at the barrel and kicked out with his foot at the knee of the bald gang member. His rage-powered kick bent the bald guy's knee backward until it shattered. The blow caused the bald guy to drop the pistol into Jeremy's hand.

Pistol in hand, Jeremy ran for the front door. Flying down the stairs, Jeremy was a blur down the hallway, out the door and onto his bike. The engine roared and he was off, tires squealing, down the street, onto the thoroughfare and Jeremy rode away. The speed-driven wind calmed the animalistic urge to survive, but his mind raced with all that had just happened as it repeated over and over again trying to make sense of everything. Billy, Isabella, and Sebastian, everyone…gone. The word turned and repeated in his mind onto infinitesimal lengths.

From another street, on Jeremy's left, another rider came out of nowhere. Jeremy turned left just in time to avoid a collision, and the other biker went down a side street. The rider had been from the Skulls. Another rider came along side Jeremy and brought down a length of pipe, cut and sharpened at the end to a sharp point. Jeremy pulled back, the pipe missing the front of his bike narrowly. Slipping his hand around the grip and trigger of the pistol, Jeremy aimed and fired.

The recoil was more than he'd expected, throwing him off just a little so the bike shuddered before regaining its balance. The other rider, this one from the Dragon's, his body jerked from the shot to the head, fell off his bike and lay dead in the street. His bike swerved right and crashed into an old storefront. Two more riders came from the left, forcing Jeremy to turn right to avoid collision.

After two blocks without interruption, two more Dragon's rode parallel to him. They did not attack, but blocked him when he tried to turn. The riders broke away at the end of the street; before him were the assembled gangs of the Skulls, Dragon's, and several smaller gangs the Reds had dealings with in the past. At the forefront, was Finch and beside him was…Billy.

Both wore their helmets, but Finch removed his, slicked his hair back with his fingers, with a smirk across his ugly rat face. The victory Finch believed he possessed showed on his face. "Well, kid, 'bout time you showed up. We were waiting so long I'd thought you were taking it slow". Jeremy, fist tightening over the handles, said nothing, for nothing was to be said.

"Well, your whole gang is now dead, its leader giving over control to a better leader and you stand alone" Finch said, the smirk growing into a sick grin of triumph. "What'll you do, kid? You might as well join me; you have nothing else and nowhere to go otherwise". Jeremy slowly opened his visor, the face cover slid into the frame of the helmet. "I will never join you. Never; I would rather die than forsake the honor of my family by joining you. Finch, I challenge you…to an HONOR RIDE!" Jeremy screamed at the top of his voice.

Finch laughed a high, disturbing laugh of a madman. He stopped for a moment, stared Jeremy down, then "alright" Finch said. Jeremy was surprised, but he didn't show it; the anger burned everything from his face. "As the one who is challenged," Finch said "I have the right to choose who I want to ride in my place, if I don't want to personally."

This time it was Jeremy who laughed, high, mad and mocking "are you a coward, Finch? Do you order your puppets and boot lickers to do your bidding while you sit and watch as real men fight your battles? I knew you were weak, Finch, but I at least thought you would want to personally end the Tenth Street Reds gang by yourself. I was wrong, however, as you are too much of a coward"

Finch, his face contorted, quavering in rage shouted "DAMN YOU AND YOUR HONOR! I'LL DO WHAT I WANT!" And then, Finch pointed at Billy and then at Shepard. It was an order to take Finch's place in the Honor Ride. Billy seemed to hesitate then revved his engine and approached Jeremy. He watched as Billy came along his right side, helmet and visor down concealing his face.

He didn't look at Jeremy, but ahead along the road, toward the start of the Honor Ride. Billy reached for his visor, pushed it up and his faceguard receded into the frame of his helmet. "Do you remember the laws which govern the Honor Ride?" Billy asked in a dead monotone. His eyes held no life whatsoever as he'd been witness to Isabella's death.

A crackle of thunder overhead; Jeremy looked up to see a blackened sky, fat rain clouds thick with lightning. A bolt lanced across the sky, and the thunder proceeded immediately after. Returning his gaze to Billy, Jeremy said "Billy, we can escape. We can outride these bastards easy; we're two of the best in the gang. Please, let's get out of her". His voice was weak and pleading. It stung his pride to appear weak before the man who'd taught him of honor and strength, but it couldn't be help. Billy did not respond to his plead, instead

"Do you remember the laws which govern the Honor Ride?" still in the same monotone. Jeremy was near breaking, the ordeal within the last hour and Billy's non-response pushing him near the edge of full emotional breakdown.

"Billy, please forget the Honor Ride; we can outrun every one of them and escape, please" this time, tears threatened to break from his eyes; his hands shook on the handlebars and his legs trembled. Now did Billy look at him; slowly turning his head to look Jeremy straight in the eye.

Billy opened his mouth "There are five laws which govern the Rite of the Honor Ride: One, the Rite may only be invoked upon a clan which has caused severe distress to another, and may only be invoked by the clan who was the recipient of the distress. Two, the Rite of the Honor Ride, once invoked, must be carried out by only two rider of each clan; no one else outside of the two clans may interfere. A leader of either clan may substitute one rider for another, but only once may they do this. Once this is invoked, there can be no alterations"

Billy, as he recited these laws, continued in the same dead monotone and lifeless eyes. Jeremy was breathing hard now, gasping for air as Billy continued to recite the laws "Three, the Honor Ride shall consist of a single race between the riders of each clan. Both clans shall agree upon a date, set by record and stamped with the seal of each clan. Both clans must participate in the Honor Ride, otherwise the honor of their clan is forfeit, their names stripped from the record and they shall be branded as honorless and cast among the winds of the earth, never to return again on pain of death."

The sky thundered and flashed with lightning, a great cacophony accompanying Billy's reticence of the laws "Four, the race shall end when one or both riders die, and no reparations will be paid to either. Should one rider win, the clan of the rider shall receive reparations agreed upon by arbiters of other clans. Should both riders live, the clans will set another date for a second Honor Ride until such time as when neither rider survives or one emerges victorious."

"Fifth, the riders of both clans must take part in the Honor Ride, be they willingly chosen by their clan leader to represent the clan or they have chosen of their own mind. Should one rider seek to forfeit the Honor Ride, he shall be seen as honorless. If he continues his withdrawal, he shall be branded as honorless, cast among the winds of the earth, and his name burned from the memories of his clan, to be forgotten in mind, body and spirit until he passes from this earth." Jeremy couldn't take it anymore.

He slid from his bike, and with a wail of sorrow which rivaled the thunder in the heavens, Jeremy fell on his hands and knees, weeping openly no longer caring if anyone saw. The rain began, first a few drops but quickly increasing in speed and ferocity. Jeremy, his face streaked with tears and twisted in agony, "please forgive me, I have forgotten the tenets by which I live my life. For this I will gladly offer my life and my soul to redeem my honor and the honor of my clan" Jeremy sobbed in grief.

A hand pressed upon his shoulder, and squeezed. Raising his eyes, Jeremy saw Billy; his eyes were somewhat cleared and a tight smile graced his face. Tears rolled down his face, reaching out a hand, Billy pulled Jeremy to his feet and embraced him. Crying upon his shoulder, Billy said "you have not forgotten the honor of our clan, my son. You are blinded by grief so terrible and it pains me to see you so"

Billy removed Jeremy's helmet, his own next, and held Jeremy's face in his hands, "remember the faces of our family, my son. Their spirits shall grant you strength for what is to come". Jeremy nodded, and Billy placed a kiss on his forehead; this brought more tears to Jeremy, but he gazed resolutely into his father's eyes and nodded.

Billy handed Jeremy his helmet, crafted in the form of a phoenix head, took it and placed it upon his head. Nodding, once more, Jeremy shut the visor and the faceguard moved back into place. Billy slipped on his own helmet, took the handle bars in his hands and revved the engine. The guttural roar and the crack of thunder were a symphony of power, both man and nature, in one glorious harmony.

Jeremy seated himself atop his motorcycle and joined his roar with theirs. Speeding down the street a short distance, Jeremy spun directly around, passed Billy, toward the place where the Honor Ride would take place. Billy came alongside a few seconds later. Together, they rode side by side down streets abandoned by life, past the vestiges of a forgotten time.

In five minutes, the buildings disappeared, ahead stood a massive concrete infrastructure of old highway, twisting and rising into the sky. The great structure, once used as a major artery for the movement of cars throughout the city, stood crumbling and condemned.

At the very top of the structure, a great gap between one highway could be seen. That was where Billy and Jeremy would ride; together, they would jump the gap, and only one would survive. Jeremy thumbed the second stage release; the LED status lights on his bike shifted from green to yellow, and the bike accelerated immediately to over two-hundred miles per hour.

Billy easily kept pace, a master rider atop a machine which was an extension of his own soul. Turning left onto the old on-ramp, the roadway snaked higher and higher in tight circles. The centrifugal force was great, the tight turns bringing his right knee near the pavement of the road. At this speed and angle, without perfect control, would be deadly. But Jeremy kept control of his bike, as skillfully as Billy, and they rode to the top of highway.

Before them, five hundred feet away, the gap awaited its next victim. In unison, Jeremy and Billy activated their third stage release. Jeremy's console showed the status bar of the stage buildup, rising steadily past twenty-five percent.

They were approaching the gap fast, three hundred feet to go. The status bar reached fifty percent; the bike began to vibrate with the contained power, yearning for final release. Ahead, the gap was one-hundred and fifty feet away now, the jagged edges of the break, left behind when this section fell, appeared to Jeremy as a great maw waiting to swallow them both whole.

The status bar showed seventy five percent, and the gap came within one-hundred feet. Ninety-five percent; now the gap was less than thirty feet ahead. Finally, both bikes screamed a critical mass alarm as both reached one-hundred percent. Jeremy and Billy, father and son, activated the final acceleration stage.

A great roar of power, a rush of air and Jeremy felt the same clarity he did when on his first ride. The gap disappeared from beneath their wheels; they were flying. Above him, Jeremy sensed the great creature of fire, the phoenix summoned by the fire of his motorcycle. He felt its presence envelop him, protecting him from the empty space that would destroy.

Upon the wings of a phoenix, Jeremy flew across the gap. The opposite edge came closer; one wrong move and the bike could slam into the edge, tearing the body apart and killing Jeremy immediately. But he felt no fear, just peace. His back tire hit the pavement of the highway, landing hard but still Jeremy was in control.

A rush of wind proceeded by heat brushed past Jeremy, and he knew. Billy had not landed on the roadway. The body of his bike connected with the edge, been torn in half and the fuel tank exploded.

As it did on his first ride, the sense of clarity receded; turning the front wheel to the left, the deceleration jets came on-line and slowed the skid. The bike spun around and Jeremy faced the great fire which engulfed the edge of the gap. Jeremy removed his helmet, welcoming the rain upon his face as new tears fell.

Bowing his head, Jeremy placed his right fist over his heart and said a prayer to the gods that they may favor the souls of his father, mother, brothers and sisters to find peace for eternity. Replacing his helmet, Jeremy rode down, off the great highway corridor and into the rainstorm covering the land in darkness.

And so his story was ended, his past revealed to the only person he trusted above all others. Shepard glanced over at Tali; though her mask covered her face, the slump of her shoulders, her hands resting in her lap, along with a sniffle he could tell she was crying. Reaching over, Shepard took her hand, squeezed but did not take it off as he'd done earlier. Tali turned her head to look at him.

Unshed tears glistened in his eyes; the muscles of his jaw were tight as he fought back the remorse. She placed her other hand over his, and he squeezed again in a silent thanks. They flew on toward the place where his old motorcycle, the last piece of his old life, lay buried and hidden away.

Leaving the main area of the city, the car flew out over ruins of once vast city. Buildings of all sizes stood, but all were in terrible condition. From their height, Tali could see buildings burned out, collapsed, and many more abandoned. The old city still stood, but it was dead. "There it is" Shepard said. Tali turned to see where he was looking: a small lot full of old cargo containers, all bearing the same abandoned appearance, lay within the perimeter of a chain link fence.

Shepard brought the car down closer and landed in the center of the lot of containers. Opening the canopy of the car, Tali got out and Shepard followed suit. The car rose into the air, guided by an automatic return subroutine written into the computer program.

Looking around, Shepard saw a sign with several numbers displayed. One pointed in the direction of the cargo container he'd rented years ago. "This way" he said, taking Tali's hand, leading the way through the stacks of cargo containers.

At the end of a row stood one container, black with a painted red ten on the door. The door was padlocked, no electronic security whatsoever. Approaching the door, Tali could sense Shepard growing tension. Behind this door lay the last vestiges of his old life.

Standing before the great steel doors, Shepard pulled the belt buckle away. Hidden in a small recess of the buckle, a key was securely fastened. Removing the key, Shepard took the padlock in hand, inserted the key and turned. The lock clicked open, but Shepard hesitated to open the doors.

Tali lay her hand on his, nodded when he faced her, and they both opened the door.

_Author's Note:_

_The longest chapter I have written, and what a thrill it was. As I wrote the Honor Ride scene, I listened to Manowar 'Today is a Good Day to Die'. It perfectly set the tone for what I was trying to convey._

_And for you, my constant readers, there are only one or two chapters to go after this. This chapter had to be the longest so far due to the very nature of the circumstances under which Jeremy left the gang life behind._

_All rights reserved by Bioware and their staff; ideas, concepts, designs and locations are mostly of my own creation crafted from multiple sources. Read, review, comment, etc., my standard rules apply concerning language and commentary._

_Arrivederci,_

_Tutor Verum_

_P.S. God Bless America on this Fourth of July, two-hundred and thirty-five years since 1776; Give thanks to our vigilant defenders of the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force and Coast Guard. As a History major and a patriot, my heart swells with pride to live in this nation. Whatever the government does, they do not always represent the ideals of America._

'_Loyalty to your nation always, Loyalty to your government when it deserves it'_

_Tonight as you watch the fireworks explode and color the skies across the United States, say thank you to any servicemen and women you meet, for it is they who have protected us so far to have reached this anniversary._

_And for any servicemen and women reading this piece: thank you, for all that you do, from the depths of my heart_


	4. Attero Dominatus

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 4 – Attero Dominatus

Shadows hung within the cargo container, but one was distinct: a long object, beneath a tarpaulin. It stood in the center of the container, dominating most of the space between the two walls of the container.

Shepard stepped forward, not looking at the tarpaulin covered machine which lay underneath. He proceeded to the back of the container, where a stand of shelves stood against the wall. Two crates were held on the shelf. Grabbing the crates, Shepard pulled them off the stand and set them on the floor.

Tali walked in, slow footsteps, along the length of the tarpaulin-covered machine. The way she had imagined its appearance wasn't close to the actual machine. It was longer than she had thought, bulkier as well. The way Shepard had described it she'd imagined something lean. This machine, Tali knew without even laying her eyes upon it, possessed great power.

"Tali" Shepard called, gesturing for her to join him. Taking one more look at the covered machine, she joined him. In his hands he held an article of clothing, a jacket Shepard had called it. She'd seen jackets before, but this one was unique. It was made of a material Tali had never seen. She touched it, but her gloves prevented her feeling the material.

"What is this material?" she asked. "It's called leather" Shepard provided "it comes from the skins of certain animals, treated with different chemicals, dyed and sown into jackets, boots, pants, hats. Most leather nowadays is synthetic, mass-produced but still retains the same feel as the real thing". Shepard tapped the jacket in his hands, "this is real leather".

Tali looked at him incredulously "humans kill animals to make clothing". Shepard nodded "didn't Quarians at one time make clothing out of animal skins". Tali stepped back, not because she was offended, but because Shepard was a shoulder and head taller than she was. Shepard was taller than most of the crew, in fact, except for Garrus.

"At one time, Quarians made clothing out of animal skins, but not for centuries before the Exile. It was a practice that died out because animals we're precious to the natural order of our homeworld". Shepard nodded in understanding "Earth has a lot of insect life: animals, plants, insects all work in the cycle of life, but the insects do most of the work. Animals were more for food and clothing, and specialty businesses still use animals. But today, everything is mostly synthetic for humans".

Shepard held the jacket for another moment, then moved his hands and held the jacket open toward Tali. "Try it on" he said; Tali hesitated, then slipped her left arm through the left sleeve and shouldered the right sleeve. The jacket was big for her slight frame, Shepard having been very fit and broad-shouldered when he was eighteen.

Shepard looked around the shelf a little more, but Tali knew he was scared of the motorcycle laying beneath the gray tarp. Resting a hand on his shoulder, Tali said "Jem, you can't hide from your past when its right next to you". Kneeling, Tali took his hand in both of hers "I'm here for you, but I won't take that tarp off that machine. It's yours, and you alone need to confront what happened to your family".

Shepard knew she was right; he was being an idiot trying, and utterly failing, to ignore the veritable elephant in the room. Massaging the bridge of his nose, Shepard stood and turned to face the tarp. Stepping forward, he laid a hand upon the covering, but once again hesitated to move. Turning his head, he indicated the second crate on the floor "open that crate; hand me what's inside".

Tali knelt again, and released the clasps on the crate and opened it. The crate held two foam pads, cradling a helmet of intricate design. The work upon the helmet reminded Tali of the patterns of which were woven into the wrap a Quarian adult adopted after their Pilgrimage. Pulling the helmet out, the design was that of the head of a bird of some kind. Shepard had called it a Phoenix, but hadn't elaborated upon what it represented.

Shepard held out a hand, waiting for the helmet. Holding it in both hands, she placed the helmet in Shepard's outstretched hand. Finally removing his hand from the tarp, Shepard took the helmet in hand, gazed upon its visor with a forlorn and distant countenance, then squared his shoulders and set the helmet upon his head. Something in his demeanor changed once the helmet was securely placed.

His shoulders squared and back straightened. Laying his hand once again upon the tarp, Shepard bunched it in his fist and pulled sharply. Dust rose from the quick motion, but the motorcycle was revealed. The whole of the machine was, in Tali's mind of mechanics and engineering, one of the most elegant, powerful and physically amazing machine she had ever seen. The Normandy was beautiful and powerful, both the new and the old.

But this machine was beyond even the Normandy's seamless beauty of power and elegance combined. From Shepard's description, Tali recognized many of the physical parts of the machine, but her mind went far beyond recognizing descriptions. Her knowledge of machines, a level of cognizance which was done without thought, created a map of the machine and its entire internal structure in her mind's eye. The physical beauty of the machine's exterior was perfection beyond compare, but in Tali's mind she saw the mastery of machinery and craftsmanship which was worked into its creation.

A hand touched her shoulder, and Tali jerked with a yelp; it was Shepard who had touched her. His helmet was open and she could see his face, which held a worried expression at her reaction. "I-I'm okay", she said laying her hand on his. For a brief moment, Shepard still held that worried expression, but hid it behind a smile. "She's beautiful isn't she" he said, and Tali nodded, understanding far more than what Shepard meant; if she told him about her episode, her innate understanding of the motorcycle, down to its smallest part, he might not understand.

Despite their relationship, and Shepard's repeated assurance that he loved her for who she was, there were still aspects which he might find strange. That was her fear: that she would become strange to him and a distance would grow between them. So she had resolved to keep some of her odder traits to herself.

Shepard gazed upon the motorcycle, eyes glazed over again with his memories upon this machine. Focusing back on the present, he turned to Tali "I've closed the lease and account for this storage space. And the only things I hid here were the bike, helmet and jacket, everything else I've left behind." Falling silent once again, Shepard gazed upon the motorcycle. Hesitation held him in place; he wanted to mount his old friend once again, but the memories of the murder of his family continued to plaque his desires.

Violently shoving the memories aside, Shepard swung his right leg over the seat and rested upon the motorcycle once again. The feel of the seat, contouring to his body and caressing, was euphoria to the memories of violence. Exhaling, he let out a laugh tinged with tears, but not of regret. Joy filled him at again sitting upon his motorcycle, the seat still accepting the shape of his body as it had so many years ago.

Turning to look at Tali, "get on behind me" he said. She hesitated and Shepard held out his hand, which she took. Doubled up on the seat, Tali reached around and held onto Shepard's belt and leaned into his back.

Reaching forward, Shepard took hold of the control handles. At his touch, the machine awakened. A smooth buildup of power, the engine turning over and picking up speed; twin lines of light coursed from the back of the machine towards the front, ending in what appeared as a pair of eyes. The light was green, the color for all systems ready.

Slowly, Shepard gave the machine more power, twisting the throttle allowing in more fuel. Releasing the brake, the motorcycle eased out of the storage container into the sunlight. Riding at a speed of ten through the storage yard, they arrived at the front gate. Shepard tapped at his omni-tool, sending a signal to open the chain-link gate.

Out of the yard and onto the street, Shepard opened the throttle further and they sped down the street. The difference of a sky-car to ground vehicle was amazing to Tali. Buildings sped by, speed-driven wind whipped at the jacket upon her shoulders, and the power she could feel within the machine, its potential, sent ecstatic shocks through her body. This sensation she had first felt when Shepard had taken off her mask and she'd kissed him for the first time.

Shepard rode at low speed, not wanting to tax the machine after so long of inactivity, also his worry that Tali might find the speed frightening. For ten minutes, the couple rode easily on their way back to the spaceport and the Normandy. As they rode, Shepard heard a distinctive sound; coming to a break in the buildings, he glanced to his right and saw a form disappear. His instincts told him whoever it was, it meant trouble.

Gradually, Shepard put on more speed, the speedometer moving from thirty to sixty. The engine made little noise as it worked, and Shepard heard again the noise which set his instinct on flight rather than fight. Whatever happened, he would protect Tali in spite of the cost to himself.

Coming to an intersection, Shepard saw six motorcycle mounted riders swerve onto the street opposite him and Tali. Slowing the bike, he looked to his right and saw six more blocking that direction. Without needing to turn, Shepard heard more block the street they'd just come from. He was nearly boxed in; the street to his left was open, intentionally open.

"Jeremy, what's happening?" Tali asked; the appearance of the three groups of riders set her nerves on edge "the one day I don't have my shotgun…" she mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Shepard heard, and held in a laugh; there was little choice for them to go. Revving the engine, he sped down the road on the left.

Throttling up, Shepard and Tali shot down the street, quickly moving past one-hundred miles an hour. A t-intersection lay ahead, but more riders appeared on the left, forcing him to veer right. The tight turn brought his knee dangerously close to the pavement. Activating a radio built into his helmet, Shepard tuned the frequency to Tali's helmet using rotating motions of his lower jaw.

Tali jumped a little when she heard his voice over her radio, "Tali, the riders are using a tactic called herding: they want us to go this way, we're being led into a trap". Shepard veered again as another group of motorcycle riders blocked another route. Whoever was behind this, and Shepard had a deep suspicion, they knew the tactics and methods of the gang when cornering motorcycle riders.

Twisting and turning down street after street, and the other riders kept coming. Shepard surmised this was a very large group, or several molded into one for the purpose of herding himself and Tali. Ahead was a square, a central area where multiple streets meet and branched off into others. Upon entering, Shepard and Tali were swarmed with motorcycles. From all directions, the sound of engines filled the air as hundreds of motorcycle mounted riders filled the square.

The riders formed-up around a central point, a single rider who sat atop a grand motorcycle, larger and more beautiful than the rest. The only motorcycle in the area which could match its beauty was Shepard's _Attero Dominatus_, created by Tyr. This bike, Shepard recognized, as _Steel Charger_, the bike Isabella rode.

Atop _Steel Charger_, sat a lanky figure in form fitting riding leathers; the helmet was also Isabella's, shaped in the visage of a wolf. The figure, man or woman, began removing the helmet. Oily slick hair and a face of a rat revealed themselves from the helmet. Finch, riding Isabella's motorcycle, wearing her helmet, and looking at Shepard with a smirk which boiled his blood was Finch.

Fingers tightening on the motorcycle controls, heart beating inside his ribcage, with his mind narrowing onto a single thought of revenge upon the man who had wronged him so many years ago; "Welcome back, Shepard, been a while hasn't it?" Finch looked around him "whole family's here to say hello". Shepard held back the majority, but a bit of his anger escaped him "you killed my family Finch, I will have justice". Finch cackled in laughter "Justice? That's what your after? Look around you Shepard," he said, indicating the ruined square and beyond. "There is no justice, except your own, in this place. But you're right, you have no family, you have nothing"

It was Shepard's turn to laugh, a high, mocking, laced with anger infused hysteria "it's you who has nothing Finch; these people follow you out of fear, not loyalty". Finch scowled at the insult, eyes burning with hate. "You have no one Finch; I have friends, comrades, people who I would gladly face death with on their word alone".

Moving his hand off the handle of the bike, Shepard took Tali's hand in a strong grip "and I have someone who I love with all my heart". Pointing an accusing finger at Finch, with Tali's hand still in his, he said "YOU have nothing, Finch". Snarling with a primal hatred burning in his blood, Finch shouted at Shepard "SHUT UP!" turning to the hundreds of riders around him Finch screamed "KILL 'EM BOTH! BRING ME THERE HEADS!".

The assembled riders revved their engines in a single massive roar of sound, many bikes spewing flames from their tail pipes as excess fuel burned in the mufflers. Shepard revved his engine, opened the throttle wide, spun around and released the brake. Shepard and Tali shot down the street, racing away from the horde after them.

Tapping a few keys on the console, the bike began its second stage release. A rider came along side, holding a makeshift mace in his right hand. Spinning the head in circles, the rider attempted to bring the head down on Tali. Shepard lashed out with his left leg, a powerful kick sending the rider off-balance and into a building. The bike frame folded and the gas tank ruptured, creating a fireball.

The second stage completed it activation, the LED's along the bike flared with yellow light and the bike accelerated, rising past two-hundred in five seconds. "Tali, call the Normandy, we need back up ASAP" Shepard said over their link. "On it" she said; sliding her right hand off Shepard waist, Tali activated her omni-tool without moving to see the screen.

From memory, she activated the comm link between herself and the ship, "Normandy, this is Tali. Shepard and I are being chased through parts of the old city. We need fire support immediately." Less than a second later, EDI came on over the radio "message relayed to combat-team members, also tracking your current location and reviewing best approach vectors to engage hostiles".

Shepard rode and Tali held on as Finch's gang gave chase; "Tali'Zorah" EDI said over the radio "Gunnery Officer Vakarian along with Specialists Massani, Krios, and Legion are gathering weapons and will be in bound on the Kodiak in approximately one minute". Shepard swore "tell them to hurry the hell up" Tali relayed the message.

"Specialist Massani wishes to inform you they are moving as quickly as possible, and if you want their assistance faster he also informs me where you may secure your request" Shepard shook his head, then throttled the engine to full intake.

Finch's gang could not keep pace with Tali and Shepard, a superb rider using an excellent machine. The other motorcycle fell back, or some tried to catch up but the riders lost control, spun out and crashed. Most of those died from impacting the ground or the sides of buildings.

Turning down a large thoroughfare, Tali spied the Kodiak approaching at their three-o'clock position. The shuttle turned to follow alongside, and the side door opened. Inside stood four figures; through her mask Tali could magnify the image, and saw Zaeed, Garrus, and Thane carrying Vipers and Legion carrying its Widow anti-material Rifle.

The four snipers lay down in the prone position and began picking off targets. They chose targets of opportunity, taking chest shots or targeting the motorcycles themselves. Legion's shots caused his targets to explode, Shepard surmised it must be targeting the fuel tanks and using incendiary rounds.

The sniper attack forced the riders to spread out, taking multiple streets alongside Shepard and Tali, or veering off entirely to circle around and come out ahead. A large group stayed on Shepard and Tali attempting to chase them down, using various maneuvers to avoid the sniper fire "The Normandy is making an emergency deployment; Professor Solus, Jack and Samara are in bound to your position in a taxi cab."

Riding hard, Shepard and Tali kept ahead of the other riders. At times some managed to come within a dozen feet but were quickly dealt with by the snipers. Ahead and above, a taxi cab swung into view. It flew low and stopped; the canopy raised allowing Jack and Samara to step out. "Plan is dangerous. Suicidal…could work, with precise timing" Mordin said to the two powerful biotics. Jack smirked, "hell yeah it's going to work" she said to the Salarian scientist.

Samara nodded "while risky, the outcome far exceeds the dangers". Samara looked to Jack who returned the gaze. While she wouldn't admit it, the young tattooed woman was nervous. "Just as we practiced" Samara said, the voice of a mentor calming her student. Jack tightened her fist and nodded once. "Can see Shepard and Tali ahead…many enemies following" Mordin stated, bringing the biotics attention to their task.

Before moving away, Mordin looked to the two women once more "good luck" he said. The canopy closed and the taxi moved away. Samara and Jack stood in the center of the dilapidated street watching the single machine with Shepard and Tali riding it followed by dozens of others all wielding a myriad of weapons.

Shepard and Tali approached, moving far faster than their pursuers. They passed the two biotics on the right, their passage bringing a breeze from the passing slipstream. With the two passed, Samara and Jack prepared. Holding their hands apart, they began to build a sphere of concentrated biotic energy.

Samara's kept hers perfectly stable while Jack required more concentration; the situation forced the young women to focus far greater than she had ever before. Her sphere grew and she concentrated, decreasing its size but multiplying its kinetic force. Pouring in more power, concentrating and maintaining their size, the spheres turned to solid spheres of white and blue light.

The enemy riders were nearly upon the two biotics. Kneeling Jack and Samara concentrated the biotic spheres into the right hands. Jack unleashed a feral war cry as Samara prayed to the Goddess that this worked. Both women slammed their spheres into the pavement.

The spheres of biotic energy, upon release, unleashed a shockwave of power through the ground. The pavement shook, then twisted and rent, then buckled; pieces of pavement, great slabs of road wrenched into the air, spreading forward in a wave of destruction which engulfed the riders. Many riders fell forward off their machines, others flew into the air and crashed back onto the rent pavement. The chaos swallowed every rider on the road, and none stood again from where they lay.

The power required drained Samara and Jack; while Samara, through centuries of experience, managed to keep her standing, Jack fell to her knees from exhaustion. Slowly, Samara moved to the young woman "So young, yet so powerful" Samara thought sadly. Kneeling next to her, Samara looked at her face. Her skin was covered in sweat, breathing shallow and ragged, but her eyes were afire with triumph at having unleashed such power.

She looked at Samara, and gave a small smile; some would say a smirk, but Samara knew well enough the difference. The taxi bearing Professor Solus returned; Mordin gazed upon the destruction, his mind analyzing and calculating.

The final results, while Mordin had seen extraordinary feats in his lifetime, this one was the latest; the two biotics had unleashed a surge of biotic power nearing one-hundred thousand Newtons. Shaking his head, Mordin moved to assist Jack back into the cab. She waved off his help, but stumbled when she tried to stand. Samara caught her around the waist, and Jack her allowed to help maneuver into the levitating vehicle.

Several miles down the long thoroughfare, Shepard and Tali still rode but their pursuers had been massively thinned. Whatever jack and Samara had done had worked beautifully; when they all were back on the Normandy, anything those two wanted he would see to it. Taking a right, Shepard heard more riders pursuing behind. Along with the whine of the motorcycles, Shepard heard the distinctive sound of _Steel Charger_.

A great roar of anti-proton engine washed over them. Looking up Shepard saw the Normandy with its hanger bay door open and the Hammerhead jetting out. The hovercraft touched down; the side panel opened and Grunt stepped out. In his right hand, the young Krogan held the M-920 Cain. "Oh Crap, hold on Tali!" Shepard said as he throttled the engine up again. The machine and its two riders shot past Grunt and the Hammerhead.

Grunt smirked at the sight of so many foes about to die. Hefting the launcher, Grunt caressed it as a child holding his favorite toy. His suit radio crackled to laugh and Shepard spoke "Grunt, there's a second rider similar to me: that guy is mine; kill the rest but leave him for me alone" Laughing "by your word, Battlemaster; these foes of your shall die by my hand, and their leader will be yours".

Shifting the launcher to his shoulder, Grunt sort of aimed to the side of the pack of enemies. Pulling the trigger, the Cain powered to its critical mass point. The red light issuing from the barrel grew brighter until the single shot burst from the weapon. The round flew, unseen, until it made contact with a target: a single, unlucky rider and the motorcycle he rode, who was disintegrated from the kinetic energy before the explosion.

The resulting release of kinetic energy shockwave killed the rest of the riders who followed Finch. Finch swerved from the shockwave but managed, if barely, to keep hold of his ride. Looking behind him, none of his followers remained. He sped past the hover-tank and freak alien, and saw Shepard and his alien whore a few yards away.

Approaching, Finch idled down, opened his visor and shot Shepard a death glare. "It's over Finch; I told you, you have nothing and no one". Fury erupted in Finch; reaching into his jacket, he whipped out a pistol and aimed right at Shepard's head.

Seeing the gun, Tali screamed and tried to leap at Finch; Shepard held her back. An instant later, the gun exploded into a thousand pieces, and a loud sniper rifle report rolled from overhead. Shepard, Tali and Finch turned and saw Legion pull the bolt on his rifle, expelling the spent clip and replacing a fresh one.

The geth platform leveled the massive rifle at the man who had threatened Shepard, but held its fire. So too were Garrus, Thane and Zaeed all gazing through their scopes directly at Finch's head; their spotting laser danced across the wolf-head helmet.

Grunt came around the Hammerhead, leveling his Claymore; though his honor demanded he kill the one who threatened his Battlemaster, Shepard had instructed him, all of them to hold their fire to have the honor himself.

The taxi bearing Mordin, Samara and Jack arrived; the two women stepped out, refreshed from a biotic booster, and wrapped their hands in biotic energy, waiting to be ordered to unleash their power.

The turret of the Hammerhaed spun around and locked onto Finch, while the top hatch opened allowing Jacob, Miranda and Kasumi to join in threatening of Finch. Looking around him, Finch knew he was beaten. But he did have one last thing up his sleeve, "Shepard, do you still hold to the tenets and laws of your clan?" Finch said, a mocking sneer on his rat face.

Rage coursed through him at such a question being asked by such a lowly and beaten scum as Finch, but he replied. "I have never forsaken the tenets and laws of my family or my clan". A triumphant grin spread across Finch's face; raising his fist and extending his index finger, Finch said "then I challenge you Shepard to an Honor Ride"

Shepard's breath caught in his chest and Tali gasped; the others were simply confused. "What basis do you challenge me for an Honor Ride, traitor" Shepard spat with venom. Finch triumphant smirk "you have killed every member of my gang; I challenge you for reparations of their lives". Shepard, snarling, knew Finch was in the right.

The Kodiak landed nearby and the four snipers stepped out; as with the rest of the assembled combat team, they had heard Finch's challenge to Shepard, but none of them understood. Garrus had a suspicion, however "Shepard, this 'Honor Ride' consists of what?" he asked.

Shepard glanced at Garrus; dropping his scowl, his face became stoic and from his lips fell the laws which governed the Honor Ride. He said them in much the same way as Billy had said them years ago. The reaction of the members of Shepard combat team varied, but shock and horror were predominant.

"Shepard, you'll get yourself killed" said Miranda; "It's bloody suicide" growled Zaeed; "probability of success minimal" Legion iterated; "Dangerous, unnecessary" Mordin said; "We should kill the bastard and go" Jack called out. A few of the others agreed, except for Garrus, Grunt and Samara. "Enough!" Garrus shouted for everyone to hear

Everyone stopped talking and turned their attention to Garrus. The Turian strode to Shepard, placed his hand on the man's shoulder and bent forward to speak. "I understand what this means to you Shepard, but think carefully: what about Tali?" Garrus said, glancing at her. Before Shepard could speak, Tali said "I told Shepard I would stay with him through this; I will stay with him, even to face death"

She made her point by tightening her grip on Shepard, almost tight enough to compress his stomach. Garrus turned to face her fully; he said nothing, and Tali gave a short nod. Resigned, Garrus stepped away "We'll follow close by; spirits watch over you, Shepard" he said. Turning towards the Kodiak, Garrus called "move out and follow". It was and order, one several of the team wanted to object with.

Shepard revved his engine, as did Finch, and both sped away leaving the combat team to follow behind. Without argument, the members of the team reentered their vehicles and sped after the two racing motorcycles.

Shepard and Finch raced down the street, Tali holding tight onto him. Despite her company, Shepard had hoped Tali would leave him so he could deal with Finch alone. He didn't know whether to be happy that she was with him or not. If he failed…"Jem, I believe you will win" she said. He felt her helmet on his back; she had laid her head between his shoulders and held him tight in a lover's embrace

Shepard banished the uncertainty in his mind, and believed what Tali had said. He will win, because this ride was not just about his honor or his gang, but his and Tali's life. He would give her a full life. He would win this Honor Ride and go on to defeat the Reapers and he would fight any who stood in their way.

Throttling up, Shepard pulled in front of Finch, down the streets of old Los Angeles until the extensive system of elevated highway came into view. The twisting, turning and overlapping roadways stood as they did eleven years; at the very top, the great gap awaited.

High above, the members of the combat team saw the extensive roadway and the gaping maw at the center peak. A few cursed, some prayed, most of them said nothing.

Riding hard and fast, Shepard, Tali and Finch approached the on-ramp to the towering network of highway. Turning the two motorcycles mounted the roadway. They corkscrewed up a short distance and came out on a level area which lead to another ramp and corkscrew.

Higher and higher the two motorcycles and three riders rode, racing neck and neck. As they ascended, Shepard prayed 'Odin, father of the Gods, watch over me and my beloved in this hour of peril as I face death with a clear heart and conscious. Grant me strength to see me through this trial. And should I perish, may my life be payment for my clan and beloved to have a place at your side in Valhalla'

Without his touch, the built in music player in Shepard's bike began to play. The song spoke of victory in battle, of being reunited with all who had passed before, rebirth and triumph. The words, slow drum beat and guitar filled his heart with courage.

The song ended and changed to a faster one, this one of crushing his enemy's and claiming victory against all who opposed him. Shepard twisted the throttle hard and pulled away from Finch. One final corkscrew upward and they reached the top; ahead lay the gap.

Thumbing the third stage activation, _Attero Dominatus_ and_ Steel Charger_ sang as power built within their cores. Both motorcycles extended their thruster manifolds, which glowed as the power built. The light intensified as the status bars on the consoles of the motorcycles slipped past sixty-percent.

Shepard, Tali and Finch waited for the penultimate moment as the gap approached and the third stage built to critical mass. Five feet from the edge, the consoles sang with alarms as the power reached one-hundred percent. Simultaneously, Shepard and Finch activated the third stage release.

Fire eschewed from the thruster manifolds, a great torrent of flames, and the two motorcycles with their riders jumped. Shepard, after eleven years, felt the enveloping presence of the phoenix spirit. It surrounded himself and Tali, carrying the two across the gap upon its fiery wings.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shepard saw Finch; the Wolf spirit of _Steel Charger_ charged across the gap, but it was enraged at the presence of Finch. This was not its mistress and so would not bear him across to safety.

Reaching over, Shepard grabbed Finch at the neck of his jacket and hauled him off the motorcycle. The Wolf and Phoenix spirits intertwined, recognizing each other; their embrace ended as the opposite edge of the gap approached. The Wolf spirit lifted the Phoenix and its riders the remainder of the distance. _Steel Charger_ impacted the edge of the gap; its frame twisted, engine torn asunder and the fuel tanks ruptured creating an inferno. Shepard and Tali, with Finch hanging off the side by his collar, landed safely on the pavement and skid down the road.

Finch fell out of Shepard's gripped and hit the pavement hard. Twisting the motorcycle with the ease of old practice, Shepard activated the deceleration thrusters mounted on the right side of the bike. The opposing thrust slowed and stopped the motorcycle. Breathing heavily, Shepard and Tali sat atop the bike, adrenaline draining from their systems.

A short distance away, they heard screaming; a high wail of pain. They looked up and saw Finch on the ground, his leg twisted horribly. Overhead, the Kodiak, Hammerhead and a taxi cab descended and came to rest on the old roadway. The other twelve members of the combat team stepped out and gathered around Shepard and Tali, either looking at Finch on the ground with hatred or at Shepard and Tali with awe and admiration

"Why did you save him?" Samara asked with her gaze upon Finch apathetic. Shepard turned to the Asari warrior and then back to the pathetic wailing man on the ground "I will not grant him death; he shall die as he is, a coward".

Shepard dismounted the motorcycle, walked to the Kodiak and retrieved a pistol. Strolling to Finch, the members of the combat team merely watched as Shepard aimed the pistol and fired. He fired until the clip was nearly spent, but Finch was not his target. Shepard fired into the pavement three inches from Finch's head.

"There is a single shot left in this gun Finch; nobody knows you're here, and I don't care whether you die from exposure or if you take your own life" Shepard said, dropping the pistol onto Finch's chest. Reaching down, Shepard removed the helmet from Finch's head.

Shepard walked away from Finch, the helmet under his arm, and the man started screaming "why did you save when you weren't going to kill me?" Shepard turned and looked hard at Finch "you didn't deserve that death; you lost your honor when you sold out Billy, Isabella, Sebastian and the rest of the gang. You took Isabella's motorcycle and helmet when it was not yours to take. You are an honorless coward, a thief, murderer and usurper."

The members of the combat team watched as Shepard spoke; none of them, not even Tali or Garrus had ever heard Shepard speak with such passion in his voice. "You did not deserve a death in the Honor Ride, for you had no honor to reclaim in your death. Now you shall die a cowards' death, by your own hand or cooked alive by the sun".

Shepard remounted his motorcycle, placing Isabella's helmet before him to lean against it as he rode, the engine roaring to life at his touch. He turned to his assembled teammates. "Follow close; we're going into the desert east of here" Shepard said, his tone conveying he would hear no argument. The team nodded; Samara, Jack and Grunt entered the Kodiak while Mordin sent the taxi cab back and entered the Hammerhead in Grunt's place.

"Shepard, you can't leave me hear, please!" Finch called out piteously. Shepard ignored him, revving his engine to drown out the man's screams. The Kodiak rose into the air a short distance and followed Shepard as he rode away from the gap. The Hammerhead followed behind Shepard down the ramps and corkscrewing roads. "Where are we going?" Tali asked, a slightly worried tone in her voice.

Shepard took her hand in his, held it running his thumb against hers "we're going to the ceremonial hall, where I took my first trials for the gang. I need to do something there I should have done before I left eleven years ago". Tali nodded, not knowing what to say. Instead, she wrapped her arms around the waist, holding onto him a little tighter.

_Author's Note:_

_And so ends another. This chapter was a little more difficult to write due to the context; it looks so much cooler when I see the action in my mind, as if I am playing a movie clip in my head._

_For any curious, the songs which have inspired my story so far are:_

_Through the Fire and the Flames – Dragonforce_

_Hands of Doom – Manowar_

_Die with Honor – Manowar_

_Swords into the Wind – Manowar_

_Today is a Good Day to Die – Manowar_

_Battle against Time – Wintersun_

_Death and the Healing – Wintersun_

_Citizen Soldier – Three Doors Down_

_Into the Fire – Sabaton_

_Wish I Had an Angel – Nightwish_

_Any Means Necessary – Hammerfall_

_Something For The Ages – Hammerfall (This song is true to its name. EPIC)_

_All rights reserved by Bioware and the music which has brought such creation to life. I own nothing and claim nothing as my own; read, review, comment if you wish with the same rules as the last chapters._

_Arrivederci,_

_Tutor Verum_


	5. Rite of the Blood Canticle

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 5 – Rite of the Blood Canticle

Stretching towards the horizon, the desert was an endless and unforgiving landscape. Death awaited any fool enough to venture into its expanses unprepared. Life was harsh and little grew save for small scrub brush and cacti, eking out a life from the scant rains that fell in the few days of the year. The late afternoon sun beat upon the land in its last hours of light on this day.

A single road, wide enough for two vehicles from a by-gone time period, spanned the length from horizon to horizon. None but a few types of people used the road anymore, most flying high above the burning earth of the desert. Those few were thought of as the filth of society, using ground vehicles in place of the magnificent flying cars everyone drove.

'Everyone except for me' Shepard thought. As it had when he'd rode on the back of _Iron Chopper_ with Billy, the road and desert was as vast and timeless as he'd remembered it. But he rode for another reason this time. The speed driven wind whipped the sleeves of his shirt about his arms. Shepard's old leather jacket, still around Tali's shoulders, flapped in the slipstream.

Keeping pace with the long, black and red, two-wheeled vehicle bearing Tali and Shepard, the Kodiak bore Garrus, Legion, Zaeed, Thane, Grunt, Jack, and Samara. Inside the far more limited spaces of the Hammerhead, Jacob manned the drive controls with Mordin directly behind at the engineers station. Sitting at the gunner's seat, Miranda watched the Commander and Tali riding atop that old-fashioned vehicle. To Jacob's immediate left sat Kasumi, hat still covering her face.

Both groups of the combat team were silent, some meditating, others watching the passing landscape, while the rest watched Shepard. Except for Zaeed, whose snores irked the meditative focus that Jack, Thane and Samara attempted to occupy themselves with. Once, Samara reached out her hand and ran it along the top of Jack's left hand, a small gesture to ignore the man and his sleep.

Garrus lazily watched Shepard ride from his seat. The machine Shepard rode, a "motorcycle" as Jacob had told him over the radio was a fascinating machine. The design was incredible; aerodynamic, elegant, and powerful as they had all seen when Shepard jumped that insane gap in the road. Whatever Shepard was leading them towards, Garrus would stand with him; afterwards, the two of them would 'talk'.

Riding through the desert east of Los Angeles, Shepard began to see a familiar fixture of the landscape. Its grand shadow stretched across the landscape as the sun dipped lower into the sky. His heart began to pump harder, breathing deepened and his palms began to sweat. Throttling up, Shepard pulled away from the other vehicles momentarily before they matched speed. "Shepard, why'd you speed up? What's wrong?" Garrus said over the team radio channel.

Not answering immediately, Shepard pointed ahead at the approaching pillar "that's our destination". Again Shepard throttled up, this time opening fully. The speedometer slowed and steadied at two-hundred ten miles per hour.

The passage of time seemed to slow, a perception caused by the slowly increasing size of the pillar of stone. At Shepard's announcement, the resting team members gathered to look out of available window space. As they neared, when the height of the pillar could not possibly become larger, it did.

In the span of an hour, the pillar had grown to the height of one-hundred stories at least, and the base could barely be seen over the horizon. When it came into view, a collective gasp occurred inside both the Kodiak and Hammerhead. Tali stared in wonder at the site of the massive tower of stone. 'Such an immense structure, made from the forces of nature alone', she thought.

After another twenty minutes, Shepard stopped at the base of the pillar. The Kodiak and Hammerhead settled nearby, blowing dust as their thrusters slowed and stopped. Dismounting, Shepard removed his helmet, placed it carefully on the seat and took Isabella's wolf helmet in both of his hands. Holding it reverently, Shepard proceeded up the steep hill without waiting for the others.

Tali watched Shepard, looked behind her to see the others stepping out of the other vehicles. With a gesture to follow, Tali began to ascend the hill. It was steep and composed of pulverized rock and pebbles. Some of the team slipped, steadied and continued up, others had no trouble. Miranda and Samara, however, both wearing high-heels, stumbled and found walking on the rock and dirt difficult.

Garrus and Grunt leant their assistance, almost carrying the two women up the slope. The trek was arduous, and many began to sweat profusely. Among them all, Thane seemed to be enjoying himself enormously. He walked with an easy step, arms behind his back and breathing the hot, dry air as if it were the breath of life itself.

Roughly halfway up, most of the team was breathing hard and sweat ran down the human members in rivulets. Shepard, still ahead, was just as sweaty but kept his pace and poise with Isabella's helmet in hand. For ten minutes more the group walked up the slope, finally reaching level surface.

The rock before them was broken by a single fissure in the rock, a cut wide enough to pass through for a human. Shepard walked in first, shoulders set and eyes straight ahead. Only Garrus and Grunt had difficulty with the size of the fissure, but with a kick from Jack both managed to get through. Samara gave the young woman a hard stare, shook her head and entered the cave.

Inside, the cave was dark but they could tell it held a high vaulted ceiling and went several dozen feet deep. Tali could see, from the light outside, Shepard laid Isabella's helmet on a pedestal in the center of the cave and proceeded into the back where the darkness enveloped him. Rustling noises, the ring of metal on stone, and finally a single note played on an instrument.

Light appeared in the cave; racing along the walls, the floor and up to the ceiling, tracing patterns of runes, faces, and events. The engravings shone with an ethereal vapor about them. Tali could fell the ancient nature of this place; thousands of years old, and still capable of such fiery splendor. The sight was incredible.

The fire, though flickering and undulating, lent a beauty to the place which colors could not grace it with. The fire made the cave seem alive and aware. Despite the light, the back of the cave remained shrouded in darkness.

Another note played, and the fire appeared to move, shift, with the sound as if it was aroused. In the center, the pedestal upon which lay Isabella's helmet lit with flames which slowly encircled it.

Tali reacted, attempting to reach the helmet before it was destroyed, but flames shot from the floor. Tali fell back shocked; Garrus came forward and helped her up. Tali looked back at the helmet; the flames still surrounded it but had receded after she moved away.

Again the flames grew as if of their own accord and engulfed the helmet once again. The chamber was brighter now, though where Shepard had gone was still shrouded in shadow. Another note rang forth, stronger than the first and the fire did undulate at the sound, as if the flames were snakes trained to act at sound.

The pedestal with the helmet atop flared with fire and the helmet disappeared. Tali looked around again. The rest of the combat team watched the walls, and none saw the helmet vanish. A third note rang and the fires violently twitched and brightened. Now the back of the cave could be seen.

Shepard stood at the back, clad in magnificent plate metal armor, with a bird helmet she guessed was a phoenix. Pits of fire lay behind him, arrayed in a semi-circle, and Shepard stood at the front, with a magnificent instrument in his hands.

It was the brightest steel, cleaned and polished to a high shine until the firelight played across its face. Etchings and carvings in the metal depicted great gods and heroes of old, charging into glorious battle against incalculable hoards of dark creatures. At the top of the instrument, its neck, sat the face of a bearded man.

A noble and wise face, the jeweled eyes gleaming in the firelight appeared alive. Shepard began to play; it was fast and escalated to a great crescendo in seconds. When the sound hit, the walls shook and the fire leapt from the ground around the cave. The pits behind Shepard flared up into an inferno.

Within the twisting flames figures could be seen; three, in fact, two holding heavier instruments similar to Shepard's, guitars Tali assumed, and a third with a massive drum set. The flames died; behind Shepard stood three people, a man and woman on the heavy guitars while the third man sat at the drums. All wore leather clothes and biker helmets; two were of a wolf and a bear.

Accompanying Shepard with heavy guitar bass, he played fast and continuous. The drummer followed with symbols and the thunder of the drums. The drummers' beat sped up following Shepard in the intensity of the music as it rose towards a triumphant chorus. No words accompanied the song for it needed none. Every member of the team understood this song was a tribute to the fallen.

Every living member, hearing the music, recalled a memory: Garrus, his own team fallen on Omega and then Shepard charging in to save him; Grunt's blood rang with the memory of his ancestors who fell in the Rachni Wars and Krogan Rebellion; Jack remembered Alex, her old partner who said he loved her after his death in a recording. As she listened to Shepard play, her heart clenched and tears ran down her face: she had loved the stupid bastard too.

Jacob recalled his unit getting killed on Eden Prime during the Geth attack; Kasumi remembered Kaiji and their many escapades, stealing across the galaxy together and their passionate love; Miranda thought of Oriana, the only person who had mattered more than any other for most of her life. Mordin thought of his family, his nephew specifically. He'd never had anyone whom he would call a son, but Maerin was dear to him.

Samara saw a vision of her children, Falere, Mirala and Rila; it was a memory of a long ago summer on Thessia, before her bondmate, Liana, had passed into the arms of the Goddess. The summer sun warmed a forest clearing and small lake. The children played by the water, Samara leaning against Liana. They kissed, and looked back at their three daughters. Tears welled and fell from Samara's eyes, unshed since finding out her children bore the curse of the Ardat-Yakshi.

For Thane, he saw his Irikah; not a memory, but before him now. She smiled; her eyes were the same beautiful color as he'd seen so long ago. She kissed the first two fingers of her left hand and blew it toward him. Thane closed his eyes, feeling the kiss across his face.

Zaeed remembered Jessie; not the rifle, but the girl. A sweet thing he'd known back in the days when he was with the Alliance. They had dated, and dated more for over a year. One day, before he was shipped out, he'd asked her to marry him when he got back. She had said yes. Two days later, he'd heard Jessie's home colony had been attacked by pirates, and she was gone.

Tali, at the forefront of the music, remembered her mother, her time aboard the first Normandy and the friends she had made and lost to the Collectors, her friends killed on Freedom's Progress and Haestrom. She remembered her father; everything he had done was for the Fleet to be stronger and to bring them home to Rannoch. It had all been for Tali so she could live without fear. She remembered Shepard, Jeremy, the first man she had kissed, loved and so much more.

Knees weak, Tali knelt before the dais upon which Shepard stood, his hands flowing across the guitar strings and his first family behind him, united in the power imbued within the song they played as one. Raising her fist towards the ceiling, lowering it, Tali lay it over her heart as she watched Shepard play into a second chorus.

The rest of the team saw Tali's gesture and followed; all knelt, raised their fists to the ceiling and placed them over their hearts, watching as Shepard began to rock his head back and forth in time with the music. His steel helmet, in the visage of a phoenix, slid from his head as he rocked forward and back with a sharp pull. The helmet fell forth, down the steps and rested at the bottom.

Tali saw, as did the others, Shepard's eyes ran with tears. The tears fell onto the guitar strings, mixed with a substance on the cords and fell, deep red, onto the ground at Shepard's feet. The substance was Shepard's blood, from his fingers as they flew across the metal strings. The pain he seemed to ignore, too engrossed in his efforts.

The blood from his fingers slowly increased in volume as the skin ripped, moving past the first layer and down into the blood vessels. At his feet the blood spattered and soon began to pool in quarter size rings. Shepard, though in pain, would not stop: if he must, he would spill as much blood and more. This was his final tribute to his family, and he would not fail, not this time!

Finally, Shepard struck the chord which began the third and final chorus; at the striking of the chord, flames erupted around the room. Pillars reached the very apex of the ceiling, at floor of the cavern, a dozen feet from where his companions stood, fire burst from hearths sunk into the earth. The fires swelled, engulfing the rim of the hearths; from within the depths of fire, more leather and helmet clad people climbed out.

In all, eight stood with the combat team in the caverns' floor below the dais; all wore the helmets and leathers of the Tenth Street Reds, the number proudly emblazoned upon their backs. Counting Shepard and the three playing the memorial song, the full count of the old gang stood once again within their sacred hall. The eight members below the dais knelt and placed their fists over their hearts as well, the instant as light speared the chamber from behind the dais.

A massive door opened behind the dais, white light spilling forth as the door ground upon the stone floor. Shepard ended the song with one final powerful note just as the great doors opened fully. The light had eased somewhat; beyond the threshold of the door lay a grand chamber, decorated in the manner of a grand palace.

Shepard's companions openly stared at the sight, awestruck with it. Shepard did not look; he dropped his guitar and fell to his knees, right hand clutched to his chest. Tali went to his side within a second. "Shepard, let me look, please'. Slowly, she eased his hand away from his chest and her breath caught in her chest at the sight: his fingers were skinned down to the bone.

"Oh Jeremy" Tali cried, her voice soft; she reached for a pack of medi-gel on her belt, but he grabbed her hand before she could take it. Turning his face, skin pale and sweating "no medi-gel" Shepard said. Shaking her head, Tali said "why? You're in pain, please let me help you", her voice held an edge of desperation and anguish to see him in this way.

"He must bear the scars of this sacrifice, for he has allowed his own blood to be spilled in place of us" said the man who'd played the heavy guitar. The man lifted his visor, the mouth guard receded, and he took it off. The man had strong, handsome features: square jaw with a light black goatee, grey eyes and no excess fat on his face or body.

Shepard, shocked at the voice, slowly rose to his feet and turned to see the owner. As he laid eyes upon the man, Shepard could only say "Billy" and was silent. The woman guitar player removed her helmet as well. She was beautiful, bright blue eyes and red hair, curving features along her face and body, and lean just as Billy.

Approaching Shepard, the woman held a warm, loving smile on her face as Shepard saw her. She touched his cheek, ran her fingers over the hair growing. Taking a step back, "I am so proud of you, Jeremy" she said, tears running down her face. "Isabella" Shepard said, out of breath. Billy stood beside Isabella, pulled her close and kissed her cheek.

"Not forgetting about me are ya bro?" said the drummer, removing his helmet and clapping Shepard on the shoulder. "Sebastian" Shepard said; he turned and saw the eight other members, all with their helmets off, smiling warmly.

"It's about time for us to move on, Jem" Billy said, releasing Isabella who stood by his immediate right with Sebastian on his left. The other members gathered on the dais, some looking into the doorway, others taking one last look at Shepard once more.

"You have spilled your own blood to release our souls from Helheim, and we are free to pass on to Valhalla. You are noble of spirit and character, and you shall have a place at our side when your time comes" Billy said, his back to the door and his friends arrayed behind him. Shepard stood before them, Tali holding his left arm as the other companions looked on.

Billy moved his gaze from Shepard to her, looking beyond her mask just as Shepard always did. The stare was the exact same and it sent a chill down her back, "he has come a long way to return to us, and you have been instrumental in his return. In the name of Odin, father of the Gods, I thank you" Billy said, placing his hand over his heart and bowing. The gathered members followed suit.

The gang members turned and entered the door into the great chamber beyond. Last through were Billy and Isabella: Billy gave Shepard a casual, two-fingered salute and Isabella blew a kiss. They stepped beyond the threshold and the doors slowly moved, closing with a scrap of stone and a rush of air accompanied with a thunderous crashing of stone coming together.

Shepard sniffed, tears again down his face as he stared at the spot where his family had entered. A hand took his left, and Shepard looked to see Tali watching him. He said nothing, but gestured to the entrance of the cave. Slowly, they descended the steps, the other members parting to let the couple pass, falling in line behind after they passed.

Outside the cave, wind blew dust around their feet, the desert stretched onto infinity from where they stood. Shepard looked out across the desert, but did not see the vast land of hot dust and rock. His eyes held the overcast look of when his memories played out across his mind.

Tali, at his side, ran her fingers down his left forearm and laced her fingers with his. Shepard slowly closed his fingers around hers. Looking up, a smile graced his face as tears spilled from his eyes. "And so it is over" he said, gazing off into the distant past.

Releasing Tali's fingers, Shepard turned on his heel to regard the assembled members of the combat team. Men and women, companions, friends, brothers and sisters in arms; they all stared at Shepard in amazement. Still clad in the ceremonial plate, "thank you, all of you, for what you did. Today, I have finally lain to rest the demons of my past, all thanks to you" Shepard said to the assembled group. Turning to Tali, he said "And you".

Tapping his radio, Garrus said "Joker, pickup at our location". After seeing Shepard perform as he just did, and the proceeding events, Garrus didn't want Shepard to break the bliss that had come over him in the aftermath, not for something mundane as making a call.

"I'm directly overhead guys" Joker replied over everyone's radio. Their eyes were drawn to the sky; directly above the top of the towering stone, the Normandy rest in wait. The ship began to descend as Joker keyed in the commands. "I heard everything on the sensors" the pilot said "Commander, that was the most epic thing I have ever heard".

A smile, forming into a grin and then a laugh which grew in volume burst on Shepard's face. He laughed uproariously, the events of the day crashing together in his mind as one string of adrenaline-burning moments of life and death. He laughed because for the past eleven years he had feared the outcome. He laughed most of all because it was finally over.

The Normandy settled with the tips of its wings fifty feet from the ground. Shepard, Garrus, Grunt, Zaeed and Jacob maneuvered the motorcycle into the passenger cabin of the Kodiak, securing it was long Kevlar straps. The length of the bike, though, prevented the door from fully closing. Tali rigged the mechanism to close gently on the rear of the bike, leaving a space between the frame and door open.

The Kodiak rose into the air, angling toward the Normandy's open shuttle bay door. On the ground, Garrus, Grunt and Jacob entered the Hammerhead to follow the Kodiak and off-load the bike to safe storage onboard. Once off-loaded and stowed away, the Kodiak returned and picked up the rest of the team.

Tali sat with Shepard, holding his uninjured left hand in her right. Once onboard the Normandy, she pulled Shepard along to the medical bay. Once Dr. Chakwas saw what had happened to his hand, first she cleaned the wounds but at Shepard's request did not administer painkillers or medi-gel.

With a huff, Chakwas retrieved a glove from one unit, "a medical glove, sterile and designed to allow a wound to heal without encumbering bandages" she described. Rubbing a sanitizing wash over the hand, Chakwas slipped the glove on. Shepard flexed his fingers, still painful but bearable. "Beyond the glove I would recommend using it as little as possible, along with rest but I am all too familiar with your stubbornness towards pain" the doctor said.

"Thank you, doctor" Shepard said, Tali nodded, and the two entered the elevator once again, this time to the cabin. The slow elevator ride was quiet, Shepard nursing his gloved hand and Tali merely standing, unsure of what to say in the aftermath of the entire day's events. She decided actions were better than words.

When the elevator came to a close, Tali activated her omni-tool and gave herself one of Mordin's concoctions, stronger for what she was planning. Stepping into the cabin, the air immediately began to cycle and clean. Shepard walked down into the living space as Tali unlocked her visor and helmet from the rest of the suit, placed the two on Shepard's desk.

Walking down the steps, Shepard had his back to her. Moving close so she was within reach, Tali said "Jeremy". When he turned, she grabbed the collar of his shirt, grip it in her fists of both hands and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him, long and deep; Shepard wrapped her in his arms and lifted her off the floor

When they broke, Shepard saw Tali held a fire in her eyes; a craven passion wanting, needing, of pleasure and release. Tali dropped to the floor and rapidly tugged his shirts off. Shepard, responding, began releasing the buckles which held her suit together. In between their motions, their mouths met hungrily.

At last, Shepard stood in his boxers only while Tali, who didn't have underwear, stood bare before him. She maneuvered Shepard towards the bed, his knees made contact and Tali pushed him onto the mattress. Climbing onto him, she let her skin graze along his until they were eye to eye. Another kiss and Shepard rolled Tali beneath him.

Soon their passions escalated, bodies moving together in synchronous rhythm. Sometime during their love-making, the lights had dimmed to a soft yellow, and in the shadows, the Human and Quarian lovers reached their shared climax.

Tali, above Shepard, collapsed onto him. The whole day, his revelation of the last days of his life as a Tenth Street Red; their finding his old motorcycle; the chase through the city and running from Finch's gang, to the harrowing Honor Ride all coming together at the rock chamber and Shepard's sacrificial offering of his blood and flesh. Through it all, Tali had been strong and did not show how afraid she had been.

Unbidden and unwanted, tears welled in her eyes and fell onto Shepard's face. Reaching up, Shepard ran his fingers across Tali's face, wiping the tears away. Her eyes opened; Shepard gazed into the luminous orbs in love and wonder. Cupping her face with his gloved hand, Shepard understood all that Tali felt: no need for explanation but an empathic sense brought about by two people who understood each other and accepted them wholly.

"Thank you, for everything, my love" Shepard said in a voice low near on a whisper. Tali lay atop Shepard, his arms around her, her head under his chin. In the peaceful moment, just the two of them, they fell into a restful sleep. The lights, before a soft yellow, dimmed to black; beyond the skylight, the sun set upon the desert and shadows enveloped the land.

_Author's Note:_

_And so ends the fifth chapter, one more and that will conclude Through the Fire and the Flames. This chapter, I thought, was fun as I tried to describe in words a song which defies explanation, in my opinion. The song I focused on was "Something for the Ages" by Hammerfall. It has no lyrics but the drums, bass and main guitar are simply stunning. Depending on your mood, that song fits all moods and can improve many._

_As I wrote the love scene with Jeremy and Tali, I didn't get into detail because I am not much for detail in that manner. I am not a prude but I wished to convey that Shepard and Tali, at least as I have seen in my playthroughs, have a relationship of understanding and friendship before the passion. I wish such relationships could truly exist in larger numbers; where relationships are so deep you need not say anything for your lover to know and understand._

_I have an idea for an epilogue that I think would round off the work rather nicely, but I shall only do so should you, the reader, wish to read it. It will take place AFTER the Reaper war, no speculation, at least not much, on Mass Effect 3. _

_Basic idea of the epilogue: Shepard and Tali survive war, live together on a planet where they live undisturbed and enjoy life without the threat of battle, war or needing to charge into life-risking situations. Further details can be found IF you, the reader, wish to see an epilogue._

_Read, review, comment, etc. So far I am pleased quite a few people have favorite not just the story but myself as well. That's encouraging for future works I have in mind. _

_And so, constant readers, I bid you a fond farewell for now, until the next chapter and the conclusion to Jeremy Shepard's tale. _


	6. The Past Now Rests

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 6 – The Past Now Rests

The dark sky of Earth was a beautiful sight; stars glimmered, an ethereal cloud of the Milky Way could be seen to the North-West in this early morning.

Floating not fifty feet above the near-lifeless desert outside of Los Angeles, the profile of a ship could be seen hanging as if by invisible wire in the sky.

Aboard that ship, the crew slept soundly, without a care in the universe to disturb them. Below a skylight, through which the occupants of the place known as 'The Loft' had an amazing view of the early morning sky, the ships' commanding officer was already awake.

Jeremy Shepard, Twenty-Nine years of age (or was it thirty one? Dying really threw off chronological age); six feet and four inches tall; short black hair he usually kept in a buzz cut and felt needed a trimmer immediately, with some grey in that mass of black and the beginnings of a beard, lay in his King-sized bed wide awake.

He'd woken up around zero-five hundred, and had simply lain in bed just for the hell of it. That and his Quarian girlfriend still slept, a small snore occasionally escaping her lips. Looking down, the top of Tali's head, with her ebony-black hair, rested on his chest as a pillow; her body, with bared flesh, contoured to his in a state of perfection.

Despite the blissful moment, his thoughts were held in disquiet and sadness. Though he had given of his own blood to free the souls of his family, there remained one task only he must complete. The thought sent shiver down his spine which pierced his blood and froze him still. That was the other reason for which he still lay in bed with Tali: the knowledge of this final task stilled his feet and held firm.

As he continued to watch the skylight, a tinge of red colored the sky; turning his head slowly so as not to disturb the calmly sleeping Tali, Shepard looked at his alarm clock: the display read zero-five-thirty.

Turning back, Shepard looked down upon Tali: her dark hair fell across her face, a few strands touched her lips and they fluttered up and down with each breath. Moving his hand, Shepard stroked her hair. From her crown down the curve of her neck and to her shoulder, he let the silken tendrils run through his fingers.

Tali stirred, just a little but still asleep, so he continued to stroke her hair. After another minute, she shifted, more this time, but appeared to go back to sleep. As he stroked, Tali mumbled something, sleep making her words indistinct. "What's that?" Shepard asked softly; taking a deep breath, she moved from his chest to join him on the pillow.

"I said that felt good" she said, eyes still closed and speech slurred by sleep. Turning on his side to face her, Shepard ran his fingers along her jaw, from ear to chin. Stopping after a moment, he held her chin and ran his thumb along her lips. Tali breathed in through her mouth, his thumb raking the soft tissue. Bending forward, Shepard placed his lips atop hers. Their kiss was long, deep and conveyed more than words and emotion.

Understanding, acceptance, passion, desire, respect and more; in the dark of the cabin, as the sun slowly rose upon a new day, the two lovers held their kiss, wrapped in each other's embrace and tangled within disarrayed bed sheets, for the longest, most peaceful moment, of their lives.

Breaking the kiss, Tali and Shepard drew a breath. Opening his eyes, Shepard gazed into Tali's luminescent irises, flecked with silver. He was stalling, he knew that, and he wanted to delay having to rip himself away from this perfect moment for as long as he could.

Tali's words from yesterday, however, came back to him. Exhaling a long sigh, the smile which had been across his face faded; Tali, noticing the change immediately, frowned and placed her own hand upon his face, caressing his jaw. "What is wrong, Jem?" she asked. Gazing into her eyes, he opened his mouth to answer but the words caught in his throat.

Taking a breath, Shepard tried again, "the Rite of the Blood Canticle, the ritual yesterday, has one requirement after the release of the fallen souls" he said. Tali sat up, knees curling into her chest and her arms wrapping around them. Her hands balled into fists. She was sick of all the things Shepard had to do for his gang and their damn rituals causing him such pain

These thoughts collided with her beliefs of responsibility towards family: the individual must give of themselves toward the survival and future of the group at large.

Her fists were tight, digging into the flesh of her palm through the bed sheets, twisting under her hands, Tali kept her fear and trepidation under a cap as she asked "what do you have to do now? Strip your flesh and spill your blood? Ride a machine monstrosity over a perilous chasm?" Shepard could sense her fear, despite how much she hid it from her voice.

"It's nothing of the sort; more of a…cleanup" he said; the word was wrong to describe what needed to be done, but with Tali in this state it was the only word that would calm her and get his point across. She turned; her eyes were beginning to discolor as she held back her tears; "what do you mean 'cleanup'?"

Moving from under the bed sheets, Shepard slouched over the edge of the bed, forearms on his knees and hands clasped together. Staring at his hands, and in a monotone, explained what he meant. As he spoke, tears weld in his eyes, but with willpower they did not fall.

When he was done, Shepard remained in his slouched position. Tali moved to him; she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Reaching around, Shepard held her close as his tears fell at last silently and only for a moment.

Drawing in a sharp breath, Shepard stood and offered his hand to Tali; she took it and both made their way to the bathroom and a morning shower. Under the warm water, Shepard scrubbed Tali down with antibacterial soap safe for both dextro-and -levo amino acid-based. Finished, Shepard turned and let Tali do the same.

Out of the shower, Shepard stared at his reflection in the mirror; his cheeks and neck were covered in bristles of hair. Waking to his desk, he took a wooden box from one drawer; opening it, the box contained a bowl with soap, a brush with perfect synthetic beaver hair and a second box, this one a dark wood with engravings and iron fastenings.

The box and contents had been a gift from Anderson after becoming a SPecTRe. Shepard had expressed, during one evening before the Eden Prime when the two had shared a drink, the lack of an old-fashioned shave with a real blade in this era of micro-edge safety razors, capable shaving down to the tiniest hairs.

Taking the Blackthorn and iron box out, Shepard snapped the clasp and opened it to reveal a white-marble handle with silver. The blade was nano-forged steel, able to hold an edge without needing to be sharpened for years. Back in the bathroom, he ran some water over the brush, lathered it up from the soap in the bowl and applied it to his face.

The cream spread a fine layer over his face and neck; after washing the brush, Shepard opened the razor. Running the sharp blade over his face was a sensuous feeling, a simple pleasure of which he loved; with practiced ease, the sharp blade, capable of cutting through tough sinew cleanly, cut the hair from his face.

Clean shaven, Shepard wiped his face with a damp towel, removing stray hairs sticking to his skin. Out of the bathroom, Shepard saw Tali on the couch. Her suit encased her body once more, excluding the helmet and visor. Her hands danced in their endless waltz of her nervous anxiety. Walking to his dresser, he opened the top to remove boxers and socks; the second drawer, a shirt, slacks and jacket.

Snapping the last button of his jacket on, Shepard fingered a spot below his left shoulder, centered above his heart. The area had been occupied by the Cerberus emblem, but Shepard had soon applied a combat knife to this and all of his uniforms. A little overt defiance to the Illusive Man, a permanent middle-finger for the cameras placed throughout the ship-which had also been removed after the Collector Base.

A small smirk twitched on his face at the memory. He turned to Tali, still sitting on the couch, unmasked; her eyes down cast, thoughts off in a distant part of her mind. She looked up as Shepard stood next to her. The blissful expression she had worn earlier was gone, replaced with worry and sadness. "Must you carry out your duty alone?" She asked.

Holding out a hand, Tali took it and let Shepard pull her up to stand before him. "I must; only I can finish what is required in the wake of the Blood Canticle," Tali cringed at the name; the image of Shepard's fingers stripped of skin after playing that damned guitar flashing before her mind again. "Tali," he said, voice low and soothing, cupping her chin and turning her face so she would see his eyes.

"Thank you for everything you have done and I will need you again to stay strong". Tali moved away, up the stairs and reached for her helmet and visor, but hesitated. She wanted to cry, not for herself but for him because what he must do would break his heart. And he never cried; the first time she had seen tears from Shepard was yesterday in the cave. His tears had cut deeper into her soul than the story of his gang.

Shepard stood behind her; Tali did not need to turn around to see, she knew. He possessed an air of strength one could sense easily. She had seen men, her father for one, and women such as Chief Williams, with this same air of strength, but Shepard's was tempered by respect for all and kindness. His arms encircled her waist, and his chin lay atop her head. Turning, Tali wrapped her arms around his neck.

In his arms, Tali began to tremble; he heard a sniffle and a ragged inhalation of breath. "Don't cry, love" he said, squeezing tighter. "I'm not crying for myself, or for what you have to do. I'm crying for you, because you won't let yourself cry". Shepard held her tighter, unsure of how to respond; he chose to say nothing and simply held Tali.

When her tears subsided, she looked up at him. Removing a handkerchief from a pants pocket, Shepard gently wiped her face dry. Tali closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her skin, one last sensation to hold in her memories. After twice removing her suit, Tali knew she wouldn't be taking it off again for a few days as her allergic reaction ran its course. Despite the medication Mordin had created, it would take perhaps a full year or more before she could live outside her suit without needing to use it again.

Taking her hand, Shepard led Tali out of the cabin, down the elevator and off at the crew deck for some breakfast. A pleasant smell permeated the deck; the sounds of cooking were audible as the two rounded the corner. Gardner stood behind his counter, two large pots steaming and several smaller simmering.

Gardner looked up at their approach, straightened and snapped off a smart salute "Good Morning, Commander" he said first to Shepard. Turning to Tali, he said "Good Morning, Chief Zorah". Tali gave a small giggle; Gardner reminded her of Chief Adams from the first Normandy: always respectful to her, since first coming onboard.

Shepard sniffed the air, a wonderful smell. Every day, Shepard thought the best decision he'd made as CO of the SR-2 was to purchase those fine ingredients Gardner had asked for. It seemed so long ago now, but in reality had only been a couple of months ago since he'd woken up in the Lazarus Project station, been given command of the Normandy, assembled the most capable people and formed a team, and finally destroyed the Collectors.

"What's on the menu today, Mister Gardner?" asked Shepard, waking over to the table, pulling out two chairs for himself and Tali, and pushing Tali's in for her. With a great grin upon his face, Gardner said "old family recipe, passed down since my family traveled from Europe to America before turn of the twentieth century. I took it with me when I left Earth; a little something to remind me of home and family history".

As Gardner went back to his pots, Shepard and Tali sat at the table nearest the kitchen area. "Also made something special for you today, Miss Zorah, along with Officer Vakarian"; curious, Shepard asked "why go through all this trouble today, Gardner". Wiping his hands on a dish towel, which he laid over his shoulder, Gardner said "Miss Goto told me what happened in that cave; said you performed an old funeral rite, gave up part of your hand too".

Glancing down, Shepard looked at his hand, still inside the medical glove; he's never taken it off, not while he slept or showered. "I did a little reading, and found that after such a rite as you did, it's customary to feast and drink in honor of the dead". Gardner gave him a look then "but you were otherwise occupied. So I thought why not have a feast anyway, a little late but better late than never".

"Thank you, Rupert, it's…more than I expected" Shepard said. He rarely used Gardner's first name, he rarely used any of the given names of his crew except his combat team, but they were the exception. "It's no trouble Commander" Gardner replied. Pouring Shepard some orange juice and retrieving a similar dextro version from the refrigerator, Gardner set the drinks before the two and set back to the breakfast.

Tali and Shepard drank slowly, each thinking their separate thoughts about the coming day. From the end of the deck, a whisper of mechanical and pneumatic systems opened the blast doors to the forward gun battery and Garrus stepped outside, wearing not his armor but a casual outfit dyed with his family colors of predominantly blue with black trim.

Garrus yawned expansively, his mandibles flaring and his teeth barred for all to see. After the yawn, he rubbed his eyes, with some difficulty due to his visor, and finally noticed his two friends sitting at the table before him. "Mornin'" he said, voice a close match to Thanes' croak, sitting down opposite the two.

Smiling, a small laugh in his chest, Shepard said "sleep well, Garrus?" With his head resting on his fist, eyes closed, Garrus said "too well; even in the military, I was never a morning type of person. That just got worse when I discovered 'weekends off' working for C-Sec". Garrus again rubbed his eyes, and the visor again impeded his efforts somewhat.

Gardner came over and placed in front of Garrus a steaming mug of turian coffee. That's what Garrus called the items anyway-the mug was in fact a cylinder with a narrow slit at the top to drink from. And the 'coffee' was a viscous, bubbling goop which reminded Shepard of steaming, boiling mud pits in active volcanic regions of earth.

Garrus took the cylinder in hand and drank a long gulp, not bothering to let it cool. When he was done, Garrus breathed a satisfied sigh, and steam curled out from his mouth. From the elevator corridor, they heard three doors open. From around the two corners walked Kasumi, Thane and Samara, who joined the three already sitting.

"I don't usually see you at the breakfast table, Samara" Tali said. Samara nodded "I often take my meals in private, before the rest of the crew awakened, except for Mr. Gardner. He said once he wakes before everyone else so the crew would have a proper meal before starting their shift". Again, Gardner came to the table with morning beverages in hand for the new arrivals. The six companions sat together, chatting amiably, and over the course of several minutes, they were joined by the remainder of the combat team. When Grunt showed up, he sat at one end of the table by himself as the table was starting to crowd.

With the combat team fully assembled, Gardner served the breakfast of each member individually, having prepared so many dishes for each member. The most bizarre served went to Grunt: an entire haunch of meat, dripping with grease and blood. He licked his lips and picked up a rather menacing looking fork that was about the size of a small trident.

"Come to papa," he said, stabbing the mass with the fork, blood oozing from the holes. "Uh, you might want to be cookin' that bugger a little more," said Zaeed, looking over the bloody mass with his good eye. Grunt sneered at the old veteran, bearing his teeth "Why spoil good food with fire? All it does burn the flesh and ruin the flavor. No, bleeding and juicy is the way I take it." "Bloody disgusting that is" Zaeed mumbled, tucking into his own breakfast of eggs and sausage.

Grunt ignored the old man and took a huge bite out of the meat. Blood squirted everywhere, including all over Zaeed's eggs. "Watch it, you bloody lizard! You're gettin' yer filth all over moi breakfast! Dammit all!" grabbing his napkin, Zaeed dabbed at the blood, uttering curses low under his breath. "Well if you don't want'em…" Grunt said, reaching over to Zaeed's plate.

Before reaching the plate of food, Zaeed's own hand closed around Grunt's three large fingers. He clenched, attempting to elicit pain; Grunt just stared Zaeed directly in his good eye, murder burning in his own. "Don't you touch my goddam' eggs, you giant lizard buggah'" Zaeed said, thick accent and anger turning his voice into a bestial growl. Grunt responded with a growl of his own from deep in his chest, bearing his teeth.

A loud crack rent the air. The sound startled everyone, having been solely focused on the brewing fight between the old merc and young Krogan; a couple jumped while most turned to the source of the noise. Shepard, hands flat together before him, stared down the table at Grunt and Zaeed. He said nothing, but the stare was enough force both males to focus on their breakfasts. Grunt made an effort now to prevent any blood from spurting forth.

Shepard returned to his own breakfast: oatmeal with honey, fruit, eggs and bacon, with milk and orange juice to accompany both. The cybernetic implants required a higher than normal caloric intake, as the equipment ran from his body's own bio-electric system, consuming calories at a rate double that of any normal human, other than a biotic.

The tension building between the Krogan and human had put everyone on edge. But Shepard's intervention, without saying a word to quell the two warriors, elicited several members a satisfied smirk, a few laughs, and from Jack: "Boss man's got both of you by the balls!" she cackled.

Breakfast returned to a quiet affair after the near-fight, a few people held discussions but most contented to eat while enjoying the simple act of eating together. Tali watched these people as they ate. All different, but united and sharing a simple meal together as…"a family". Tali whispered.

Shepard heard the words, barely audible over the clatter of silverware. Reaching out, he took Tali's left hand in his right. Running the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand, she looked into his eyes and he into hers. His gaze saw past the purple mask, into the eyes behind; it sent shivers running down her back.

Once everyone was finished eating, Shepard cleared his throat. All eyes at the table turned to him, even Gardner as he gathered the dishes of the team.

Shepard looked each one of them directly into their eyes, holding their gaze long enough to silently convey the importance of what he was about to say. "Yesterday afternoon, you witnessed a ceremony no one outside of my old gang has ever seen before". Pausing to let his words be understood, gazing into their eyes once again. "In the simplest terms, it was a memorial and funeral ceremony both".

"Funeral my ass," Jack called out "they were all just waiting in those pits and that light show was supposed to distract us". Shepard said nothing, but stared Jack down instead. It was not the same as was used on Grunt and Zaeed, but it halted all Jack's normal outburst for the rest of the talk. "Every person who crawled out of those fire pits has been dead for twelve years now…today"

Tali drew in a sharp intake of breath. 'Today is the anniversary of their deaths' she thought. Shepard took her hand again and held it as he continued to speak "Twelve years ago today, the people who I thought of as my family were violently murdered. I was forced to ride against the man who called me his son in the same race as I did with Finch yesterday". Shepard's eyes cast over with the veil of memories, but he drew back immediately.

Leaning forward to rest on his elbows "the ceremony I performed yesterday was called the 'Rite of the Blood Canticle'. Whoever seeks to release the souls of the dead must give of their own flesh and blood". With this last, Shepard tapped the fingers of his right hand from thumb to little finger on the table's surface. "There are two final parts of the rite which must be completed. The first must be done today". He faltered, unable and unwilling to say more as tore at his soul.

Tali ran her thumb across the back of Shepard's hand, the same gesture as he had given her. Small though it was, the feel of her hand was enough to continue. "The chamber needs to be destroyed". When the words passed his lips, they seemed to steal away his strength of will.

Samara stood from her chair, looked to the people around her, and finally turned to Shepard. His face betrayed no emotion, but the slack in his shoulders, in the slump of his back conveyed a deep sorrow. "As you have given us strength to face the trials in our lives, so do we know stand with you to confront your trials". Raising her right arm, fist tight, the Justicar laid it above her heart.

Grunt stood next and laid a fist above his heart as well, one of them at least; "Battlemaster" the young Krogan intoned. Garrus joined the standing Asari and Krogan warriors, fist over his heart as well. Miranda, Jacob, Jack, all of them stood, fists resolutely held above their hearts. Tali was the last to stand; hand still tight around Shepard's, she tugged on it so he would stand "you are the man I choose to love, to share myself with you more than I have with anyone before" she said.

Laying her fist over her heart, Tali said "I have given you my love and loyalty, and know I may return to you what you have given me". Shepard stood at the head of the table before the men and women who had followed him into hell and back; they had shared their pains with him, and now he would share his with them.

Words failed to come to his lips, instead Shepard bowed his head in a silent thank you.

Within a quarter of an hour, the team was assembled in the hanger bay as the Kodiak lowered to allow boarding. The underside of the drop ship had been equipped with four projectors, designed to carry payloads by creating a mass effect field around an object. The devices were small and portable with magnetic locks for easy installment, while a wireless connection to an Omni-tool rendered control simple.

The team of fourteen boarded the vessel, sat and set their individual harnesses. Lifting off, the Kodiak passed over Shepard's motorcycle; the mass effect field projectors levitated the machine off the deck, holding it suspended beneath the drop ship without making contact. Moving slowly out of the hanger, the vessel with its passengers and cargo descended to the scorched earth below.

Releasing Shepard's motorcycle first, the Kodiak hovered without touching down as Tali stepped off first while the rest followed. Disengaging the magnetic locks, the projectors fell to the ground. After gathering the four devices, the drop ship finally settled on the ground.

Standing at the base of the towering stone spire, Shepard, in jeans and shirt again, gazed forlornly at the cave entrance above. Seeing his expression, Tali slipped her hand into his, squeezing slightly to lend him reassurance. Closing his fingers around hers, Shepard turned his head to look at Tali. A nod and Shepard marched forward leading the rest.

Up the hill once again, the group arrived and entered the cavern once more. Again, the oppressive darkness hid the cavern. Stepping forward, Shepard knelt and touched the floor. A runic symbol, wreathed in flame, lit at his touch and the fire extended out, lighting other symbols around the cavern. The pits of fire, the main source of light, lit in unison.

The chamber was the same as it had been when they left yesterday, excepted the armor Shepard had worn was strewn atop the dais. Tali also saw the damned guitar Shepard had used yesterday. Turning to the group, Shepard said "the ceremonial armor of my gang must be mounted on stands before the chamber is destroyed. It's a gesture of respect". There was more to it than that, but he didn't want to go into any details. This was difficult enough already.

The group set to the task. Breaking into groups of two, the armor was gathered and mounted on stands-human dummies actually, with opposable limbs to fit even the gauntlets and gloves on easily.

The simpler armors were mounted in minutes, but the last three proved the most difficult. Shepard's and Isabella's were both chain and half-plate garbs: the chainmail shirts had to be mounted first, accompanied by the greaves, gloves and gauntlets, a metal chest piece and finally the helmet. Shepard mounted the helmets, first his own phoenix helmet-a magnificent single piece of polished steel with wings flaring from the sides and a beaked faceguard.

Holding Isabella's wolf head helmet, he kissed the forehead before mounting it atop the armor. The last armor to mount was the full-plate armor, Billy's. The greaves and gauntlets affixed easily, but the chest plate and pauldrons gave some difficulty. Finally, the bear head helmet. As with Isabella's, Shepard held it before him. Laying his forehead against the snout of the bear face, Shepard said something in a whisper none could hear. Finished, he placed the helmet atop the stand.

Finished with their task, the group turned to Shepard for any further instruction. Standing below the dais, taking one last look at the three armors which stood together-his, Isabella's and Billy's-Shepard activated his Omni-tool and took a photograph. Finally turning to the group, Shepard spun his right hand in a circle, ending the motion with a two-fingered gesture toward the fracture in the rock.

Moving in single file, the group exited the cavern and made their way back to the waiting Kodiak and motorcycle. After mounting his machine and fixing his helmet into place, Shepard opened his omni-tool "EDI, establish a link between myself and firing controls for the Thanix" he said. Tali stood between the motorcycle and the drop ship, unsure.

"Connection established" EDI replied. The omni-tool screen turned to a blank, black image with a flashing yellow light. Beneath the control was a single word: arming. After the span of two seconds, the yellow turned to green and the blinking ceased. Unable to look at the screen, Shepard turned in his seat. The Kodiak was full, except for Tali, who stood between the two vehicles.

Holding out his right hand towards her, Shepard said "one more ride, Tali, and this will be finished". The stalwart tone in his voice belied the conflict within his mind and heart, but he would not falter. Taking his hand, Tali swung her leg over the seat and eased into his back. Tightly wrapping her arms around his waist, Tali nodded.

Giving a hand gesture to Garrus, indicating to follow, Shepard faced forward and took hold of the handles of his motorcycle. His touch brought the machine to life; the beast roared, eager to run across the vast desert with great abandon. Twisting the throttle once, twice, he kicked the brake, revving the machine to full throttle at the same time. The rear tire spun, churning up gouts of the old pavement; the tire smoked with the friction before catching.

The motorcycle shot forward; as the machine and its two riders sped away, a subroutine activated and began to play music stored in the flash-memory hard drive. The song was of remembering the fallen and, one day, those who remained would join them once again. It steeled Shepard's resolve; taking his right hand from the throttle, he held two fingers above the fire control display on his omni-tool. With a roar mixed of rage, sorrow and regret, his two fingers fell onto the control.

Braking and turning, Shepard spun the bike around, skidding a few feet before stopping. Above the pillar of stone, the Normandy's main gun could be seen; the weapon lowered from its berth, the twin barrels extending. A great, white light shone from the muzzles of the gun; white and blue, it shone brighter every passing second. The light reached its peak of brilliance, and a wave of noise and power tore the very air as the weapon fired.

The core of the fired round shone bright white tinged with blue; a sun itself, and the noise was a feral scream which raced across the desert, heard over hundreds of miles. The super heated round of shaped armor-piercing metal impacted the base of the great pillar, exactly where the entrance to the cavern was. The massive kinetic energy of the weapon, combined with tremendous heat which rivaled a star, weakened the pillar of stone.

With its base cracked and melted, the great pillar trembled. Cracks in its core raced up and out to the surface. Slabs of rock fell from its peak, some measuring two yards long, others twenty yards and larger. As the exterior fell away, the core collapsed, causing the whole to crumble into itself. Where once a great monument stood, recognizable for miles around, remained an empty skyline and a massive pile of stone.

Falling forward, Shepard hit the console of his motorcycle with his helmeted head. Sobs wracked his body. Tears, held back previously, flowed forward in a torrent. All that was required of him as the last living member of the 10th Street Reds, his final duties-the last tie to his family-was done. Slender arms wrapped around his torso. The song from the console changed then; the same lyric-less song flowed from the speakers, but it seemed different.

It was the same song, same guitar, bass and drum, but it felt different. Rather than recall memories of the past, it brought forth all Tali had fantasized about in her life with Jeremy: a light breeze in a field on a faraway planet, tall grasses dancing in the wind. Tali stood with the breeze over her face, a light dress in place of a suit. Jeremy stood with her, a white shirt held by only one button and light khaki shorts.

The vision passed from Tali's mind; Shepard had calmed and sat straight. The song came to its end and the console fell silent once again. A palpable absence of sound settled around the two riders in the aftermath of the Normandy's destructive power and the song having just ended. Reaching down, Shepard grasped Tali's hand, squeezed, and held it without speaking.

The Kodiak approached from above and the silence was broken in the wake of its engine wash. The drop ship touched down a few feet away; the side door opened revealing the stunned faces of the combat team. Most gazed into the distance, where the stone pillar and temple chamber once existed. Garrus, however, moved to stand next to Shepard and Tali. Garrus hesitated but asked the question "is it over?"

Lifting the visor, the face guard retracted; Shepard looked at his friend for a moment, tried to speak, failed and so nodded instead "for now, at least". Nodding in affirmation, Garrus turned back to the shuttle. He thought Shepard and Tali would be right behind him, but turning found both still seated on the motorcycle.

Still gazing where the pillar once stood, Shepard leaned into the motorcycle once again. Closing the visor, he revved the engine to life. "What are you doing, I thought you said we were done?" Tali asked, startled and somewhat scared of something additional he hadn't mentioned.

Revving the engine more, RPMs climbing and power building within the machine, "I need to speak with Lord Tyr. I've made peace with what happened in the past; that's over with. Now I need to move forward into my future" Shepard said. Kicking the brake, the motorcycle spun in a tight circle around until it pointed back towards the city in the far distance, the motorcycle raced off in a blur.

_Author's Note:_

_Later than I had wanted to turn in this chapter, but laziness and circumstance intervened. This one went longer than I had expected; originally, it would have included Jeremy and Tali visiting Lord Tyr, but it become too long. _

_The next chapter, 7, will be the final chapter; afterward, I have an epilogue in mind which I have mulled over for some time now._

_Review and comment if you wish, my standards of both apply. For those who have forgotten, which I believe no one has:_

_-Critiques accepted, with insightful criticism, no trashing just because you disagree._

_-Cursing acceptable if used only in positive comments, again no trashing; if you did not enjoy my writing, then don't read, but I won't take any guff because someone disagrees._

_All characters and technology, with some exceptions, belong to Bioware, in addition to anything else I may have overlooked, but story plot lines and dialogue are my creation._

_A special thank you goes to a friend who assisted in this chapter. It was his brilliant lines I used for the breakfast scene between Grunt and Zaeed. He's never played Mass Effect; I only gave him some basic information, showed him a video or two of the characters, and he wrote a damn fine, spot on script. I was truly impressed. My friend has asked to remain nameless, however, but credit given where it is deserved._

_I am currently open to beta-reading, but I am working on my preferences to refine what I read and what I do not._

_Good Evening my constant readers, enjoy these last few weeks of summer while you can. Soon, we shall be back in classes, with texts to read and projects to complete._

_Arrivederci,_

_Tutor Verum_


	7. Rebirth

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 7 – Rebirth

The road fell behind in a blur; wind blew about them, whipping his shirt tails in the frenzied speed-driven maelstrom. As the sun beat down upon the scorched land outside of Los Angeles, Shepard held the throttle fully open. On this long stretch of mostly-flat, straight road, the speedometer neared, but never exceeded, two-hundred and fifty mph.

Tali clung to Shepard's back as they sped towards the city. For an hour now, he had said nothing other than they were to see the man who had built the machine upon which they rode. To their right, and a few feet above their heads, the Kodiak, bearing the remaining team members, followed close.

Nearing the city, its great spires of the sprawling metropolis came into view and grew towards the sky ever reaching higher. Another ten minutes passed before Shepard changed course down a dirt path off to the side of the road. Dust blew into the air, kicked up by the speed of the motorcycles tires and caught in the passing slipstream.

The dirt road was uneven, troughs and crest which made the bike jump into the air, but Shepard did not slow down. A few miles down the dirt path, Tali could see a small building. Of all the buildings she had seen, this was certainly the oldest. An old sign hung from the exterior, with a human word she did not know. The HUD in her helmet scanned, cross-referenced, and produced a result within in nano-second. "Gas" the sign said, but it still made little sense.

Outside the building, the sight was exactly as Shepard remembered from when he was eighteen; the old gas sign hanging from the building, decrepit pumps stood abandoned, and the garage had seen better days. Throttling down, the motorcycle slowed and came to a stop in front of the old gas station. The Kodiak touched down opposite the gas pumps and the team stepped out. Most gave the old building a curious glance but followed their commander's lead.

Garrus took one look at the building, mandibles twitching once; he turned to Shepard with another twitch. It was a sign of an unspoken question, private and not voiced. With a nod, the tall Turian fell in step behind Shepard and Tali, with the others following after; filing through single door, the group gathered in the old service bay of the garage.

"Lord Tyr" Shepard called into the garage; only silence filled the old building, along with thick dust and grit from the outside desert. From a room in the back of the garage, a deep grumble resounded. From the room, metal springs shrieking as a great weight was lifted from a seated position, then heavy footfalls accompanied by the hulking figure of a man who, even in shadowed profile, was massive.

Standing no less than seven feet tall, with huge muscled arms, legs and torso the man was a human beast of burden. Scraggly hair hung low down his back and chest, almost reaching his waist. Held tight in his right hand was the handle and shaft of a large hammer, used as a makeshift walking stick.

The massive head of the man turned to see them fully. He seemed in shock, gazing at the small crowd in his home but only seeing one person. The man stepped into the light for all to see; his scraggly hair was white, and what could be seen of his face was so creased with wrinkles it forced his eyes to squint.

"J-Jeremy" said Tyr; reaching for his shoulder, the old man laid his hand on Shepard. At the contact of solid flesh and muscle, tears sprang from his eyes, disappearing into the thick, wiry beard.

Taking a fistful of shirt, Tyr pulled Shepard into a one armed hug; despite being just one arm, the strength forced the breath out of his lungs. Patting the old man's back as he wept onto his shoulder, Shepard said, with little breath to speak "it's good to see you again, Tyr". The breathless voice appeared to catch the old man's attention. Stepping back, he released the hug.

Shepard took a small step backwards, inhaled once, coughed then steadied himself. Tyr stood, gazing at Shepard with tears continuing to flow from his eyes. "How is it that you are alive? I'd heard of your death, but you stand here whole and healthy. How is this possible?" Tyr asked. Working a crick out of his neck, Shepard told all that had happened over the previous months. After telling his tale, he told Tyr of the past two days.

"Good" Tyr said upon hearing of Finch's fate. At the point when Shepard came to the rite he had performed, Tyr bowed his head and asked "then it is gone, then?" unable to respond, Shepard nodded. Stepping forward, placing his hand upon Tyr's shoulder to gain his attention, Shepard made the request he had come for.

"Lord Tyr, I request you to re-forge 'Attero Dominatus'; I am different man today, and though it is a fine machine, it must reflect who I am. Attero Dominatus was forged when I was young and unscarred by war. I have spilled much blood, and my soul is scared with death and healed by love; I must ride a machine to carry that weight upon my shoulders". Tyr remained silent as Shepard spoke, his eyes glazed with tears as he listened. Once finished, the old man's demeanor changed.

The look in Tyr's eyes changed from aged, sad and lost to steel; he straightened and tightened the muscles in his back and shoulders. With a roar which caused everyone to step back in surprise, Tyr kicked with his left foot at the head of the great hammer in his hand. The head swung up, around and landed in the man's massive left fist "and you shall have it, Jeremy, son of William, last heir of the Ruadh clan!"

Nodding once, Shepard turned to the vehicle door of the garage and punched the button to raise the slated door. Gears shrieked a moment later; chains rattled within a metal housing raising the door and exposing the dark interior of the garage to the sun baked desert outside. The light was intense; despite having been in the small building for a short time it still stung their eyes.

Tyr raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright landscape before him. Once his eyes adjusted, he beheld his creation. The motorcycle chassis was immaculate, with faint marks showing use but well cared for and never abused. Stepping outside to inspect the machine further, Tyr ran a hand across the forward wheel assembly; over the front of the console; caressing the throttle and down onto the seat, finally ending at the acceleration nacelles.

Reaching for the console, Tyr brought the motorcycle to life. With a roar of the ten cylinder engine, he set the machine to neutral. Gesturing for Shepard to join him, the two men pushed the bike into the shop. With one hand steadying his creation, Tyr tapped the floor with the haft of the runed hammer. The crack upon the concrete was a thunder clap, echoing longer than it should have.

From beneath the floor of the building, loud mechanical sounds reverberated. Enormous gears turned, weights shifted and giant chains moved across spike-tooth wheels. A rectangular section of floor, the seams hidden by the thick dust, broke from the rest becoming a ramp leading into a dark pit beneath. Shepard gazed at the broken floor before shifting his gaze to the old man. "This is my forge" Tyr elaborated, not even glancing at Shepard.

Moving slowly down the ramp, Shepard and Tyr walked into the darkness, the combat team following behind. The walk was longer than the one taken when he'd first come here, to receive his motorcycle. After thirty seconds surrounded by darkness, with the only light being from the console of the motorcycle, Tyr called a halt. Deep shadows surrounded the group, ink black.

In the darkness, Tyr raised the hammer again and brought the haft down upon the ground. The thunderous crack upon the floor created a single spark, which caught a trail of oil. The fuel flamed low, blue mixed with orange, and raced around the room. The flames lit intricate patterns in the floor, set ablaze deep vessels of oil which blew bright, and set more patterns in the walls afire. The sight before them struck Shepard and his companions with awe.

The room, or cavern was more appropriate, was a great forge; tools lined every surface, racks of unused steel awaited forging, molds beneath a great forge pot glistened with smooth edges, shined by years of use and hot metal. A catwalk lead to the edge of the forge vessel, with a crane and chains suspended over it.

Tyr moved to the crane; in place of electronic controls it was completely manual operated. Shepard approached at a slower pace. Taking a fistful of chains in hand, Tyr gestured for Shepard to follow suit. With chains in hand, the two struggled and pulled the crane to position it over the motorcycle.

The combat-team members took to standing aside, away from Shepard and Tyr as they ran the heavy chains over the great body of the motorcycle. Once the machine was secured, the two pulled hard. The slack chains rose, finally catching on the machine, ascending inexorably slowly.

The strain was evident upon their faces; Shepard was flushed, face red and sweat soaked his shirt. Tyr was the same, in addition every time they stopped the old man drew in several deep breaths, hands shaking from exertion, his hammer abandoned against the wall next to the entrance ramp.

After ten excruciating minutes, with Shepard and Tyr both soaked through the entirety of their clothing, the motorcycle was suspended above. With a fortifying inhalation, the two began to pull the crane, to position it over the forge pot. The task took another five minutes to move the machine ten yards. Finally in position, Tyr and Shepard slumped against the bed of molds.

Looking up, Shepard caught Tali's attention; with a gesture, he indicated the catwalk position before the forge pot. "Stand and bear witness" he ordered the group, but his gaze remained on Tali. Despite his efforts and exhaustion, or perhaps because of, the torment in his soul tore through him with an inextricable pain. If not for Tyr's presence, a mountain of strength founded on tradition, Shepard would have faltered.

The group of humans and aliens ascended the catwalk to stand before the great forge pot as the motorcycle hung above, silently waiting. Below, Tyr pulled on one chain as Shepard pulled on another; from the ceiling, a lead chute descended and directed a flow of molten steel, yellow-white and hot, into the pot.

The vessel filled rapidly as two more chutes descended. With the pot full, the black and red body of the motorcycle was cast into shadow, accentuating the designs upon it. Shepard and Tyr ascended the catwalk together, several chains in hand. Upon reaching the platform and standing in front of the assembled group, they began to slowly lower the motorcycle-laden chains down.

Gears ratcheted as the chains ran lowered. Shepard and Tyr slowly worked, the efforts of their exertion running in rivulets of sweat down their faces. A feral roar erupted from the chained motorcycle, its tailpipe flaring a crimson-orange flame as the machine came to life. From the console a great sound played forth, echoing off the walls and filling the forge with triumphant yet mournful music.

Though few recognized the instrument being played, it was a grand sound, powerful and majestic. The instrument cut out, replaced by a great choir of raised voices and bells, distending into a single singer. Glory in battle and earning ones' place in death through deeds accomplished. The song continued to play as the motorcycle descended, moving closer towards the molten steel held within the great vessel.

When the motorcycle was within three feet of its fiery demise, fire encircled the machine, wrapping around and collecting to form a colossal beast. Wings stretched thirty feet to each side, a great tail formed of fiery plumage and the head held two luminescent red eyes which gazed upon the assembled humans and aliens with an impassive aire.

The great bird of fire raised its head just as the song come to a great crescendo, let out a mournful screech, and its body glowed with light. Though bright it was not painful; within the luminescent body, small figures and even faces could be seen: a great crowd was revealed within the light, a window unto another place. The great crowd was singing in tune and perfect harmony with the song just as the motorcycle touched the molten steel.

Upon contact with the fiery metal, Attero Dominatus began to die. The tires melted, the assembly and suspension warped from the heat as it slowly fell, held only by the chains which glowed red and orange. One final motion from Tyr and Shepard brought the chains beyond their strength, breaking the thick steel links and dropping the motorcycle into the pot. The phoenix apparition eschewed a great cry, not of pain but ecstasy and blissful release as the motorcycle slipped beneath the liquid fire.

Silence resonated throughout the forge in the moments after; the great bird of fire vanished and the motorcycle had now joined the rest of the molten steel. To his left, Shepard heard Tyr sniff; looking over, the old man had tears running down his face and into the white tangle of his beard. Squaring his shoulders from the down cast hunch of his body, Tyr reached forward to a row of levers and pulled the centermost one.

A great deluge of red-orange liquid metal poured from the base of the pot, into the casting block below where the various parts for another machine were rudimentarily forged. Once cooled, Tyr would take those and fit the pieces to exact measurements.

Turning to Shepard, Tyr said "in three days, return here and claim my final work". Without a reply, Tyr moved down the stairs and began his work. Shepard, with a dejected expression, gestured with his head towards the exit of the forge, back to the surface and the Normandy. No one spoke during the shuttle ride back to the ship, and each member made their individual ways to their separate quarters.

In the Loft, Shepard sat on his couch, feet propped up down the length facing his tank of fish. A piano played over his audio system, a solo piece by Philip Wesley. The sound was far more calming than the Heavy Metal he listened to. And Shepard didn't feel the urge to listen to any metal at the moment. A hiss of air and a pneumatic whisper from the door was heard, but he ignored it.

Footsteps, a clink of hardened ceramic on the floor plates and the familiar gait, Shepard recognized before Tali appeared around the corner. She looked over at him, but said nothing. Instead, she moved to the center of the room and began to dance in time with the music. Her lithe form moved gracefully in time with the music, twisting, turning on her heel. The sight mesmerized Shepard.

Unconsciously Shepard moved to a seated position, back hunched and elbows on his knees as he watched her. Measured and controlled, yet graceful and alive at the same time, Tali moved in time with the tempo of the pianist. When the music stopped, Tali ceased as well. Coming to his senses, Shepard realized his mouth was agape. To cover the foolish expression, he said "where did you learn that?"

Not looking at him, hands coming into their nervous dance, "well, I…I was raised under an Admiral, so there were certain…standards in our culture that I had to meet. Not all learned to dance, and learned I from ten until sixteen, before I became a working crew member of the Rayya".

Tali sat on the couch, hands still moving, "it seems foolish now, to learn something useless that didn't contribute to the survival of the fleet, but there were unspoken cultural rules that all children of prominent families had to meet, otherwise the child was a shame upon the family" Glancing over at Jeremy, at his attentive posture, Tali looked away again, knowing her hands were doing that stupid nervous dance of their own.

"When we were chasing Saren, a few months into that, I wanted to show you. It was after Noveria, after…Liara's mother…" she said, unable to finish. Shepard understood; the expression on Liara's face, after he'd shot Benezia three times in the chest, blood staining the suit she had been wearing and dripping from her mouth, tore into his soul. When they had talked, Liara tried to show a strong front, but Shepard understood her pain.

He'd left her alone to grieve in private; that grief was partially inflicted by him, it was his hand on the pistol, his finger on the trigger. A melancholy had descended on Shepard for a few days, until they had saved Zhu's Hope. "I had wanted to show you, because…well, I thought you deserved some happiness, but I didn't get my chance" Tali finally finished.

Shepard said nothing, instead stopped her nervous hands with one of his and drew Tali into an intimate embrace. With one arm across her shoulders, Tali felt safe and protected; the other hand at her hip and lower back, a place for a lover only.

Words were unnecessary, for there was nothing to say. Wesley played on, but muted and background, a nuance to their union. Moving slowly, Shepard released the catches of the helmet and mask hiding her face; Tali's hand moved across her omni-tool, activating the program to give her a prescribed dosage of anti-biotics.

With her face revealed, hair loose and hanging, Shepard kissed Tali long and deep. When they broke, she drew in a breath to fill her lungs. With nothing to say, the two lovers merely sat.

Resigned to wait for Tyr to finish, Shepard spent the three days with various crew members, trying to pass the time. He sparred with Garrus and Jacob, lounged with Tali in the Loft, ran routine maintenance on his guns in the armory, had lunch with Tali and other members of his team, observed Samara and Jack training in the hanger, with Jack making a visible physical effort not to destroy anything, such as the whole ship.

One night, Zaeed even regaled the whole crew to a few stories of his mercenary days; but the days dragged from morning until night with a snail's pace. He read a number of old works of literature in those three days: a couple of American classics, sci-fi's from the early 2000's, even the entire written piece of _Hamlet_.

Tali even commented about the books she continued to find piled higher and higher on his nightstand, and though she could not read the titles, she swore he had read one book no less than an hour after she had met him for lunch two hours ago, and yet it now lay with the other finished works. At this, Shepard gave merely a shrug stating "I just read fast"

At noon on the final day, Shepard and his team boarded the shuttle. The ride from the shuttle bay to the earth surface below was short, but it felt long to Shepard. His leg jerked, his thumbs circled each other in a rapid dance, he constantly tried to sit straight in the seat of the cramped vessel but little could distract his mind from the seemingly slow speed of the shuttle.

Having enough of his nervous twitching, Tali finally let out an exasperated sigh "Shepard, if you continue to fidget I while glue your limbs to the floor with omni-gel, I swear it". What small conversation were taking place in the cramp compartment stopped at that moment, all eyes fixed on the couple.

Shepard looked at Tali with surprise, trying to discern if she was being serious to make him stop or funny to lighten his mood. Her narrowed eyes, even through the mask suggested the former, and he promptly stopped his nervous motions. Not thirty seconds later, however, the heel of his right foot moved up about one inch, but Tali caught the motion. Activating her omni-tool, releasing the gel applicator, she shoved the device directly under his nose "I'm warning you, Jeremy Shepard, don't think I won't". Nodding quickly, Shepard rested his hands upon his knees to quell the nerves.

The shuttle settled upon the hard earth of the desert; the door opened, letting in the hot winds and dust. The first out, Shepard marched at a brisk pace to the garage followed by his friends. The entrance to the underground forge still lay open but the pit resounded with only silence; the machines were shut down, no fire illuminated the space from the walls. The forge lay quiet as a tomb.

From the wall beside the entrance ramp a voice called out "Jeremy". Turning, Shepard found Tyr laying his back against the wall. The old man was exhausted; black circles reamed his eyes, sweat stains and a foul-sweat odor eschewed from his clothes, the same ones he'd worn three days ago. The great hammer lay upon his lap, held in one hand at the neck. Kneeling before him, Shepard bowed his head. "Raise your eyes to mine, son of William", Shepard locked eyes with the smith who regarded him with a tired and satisfied expression.

"It is done" with effort, Tyr slid the hammer off his knees, pushing the tool towards Shepard. He could only stare, incapable of movement. The only reason Tyr would give over his hammer to anyone else meant only one thing. "Lord Tyr, are you…" throat constricting, the words would not come. 'Not again, please not again…'

"I am not much longer for this life, Jeremy" those words broke upon Shepard, tears welled and fell from his eyes. A hand caressed his right shoulder, another slid across to his left. The unmistakable feel of three slender fingers; Shepard took in a breath, let it out, took another "what is your final wish, Lord Tyr". Weakly, the old man gestured at his hammer; this time, Shepard took it by the neck and shaft. It was heavy, and he had to lift with his legs.

On his right, a small light on the floor glowed, highlighting an inset design the same shape as the head of the hammer. Approaching the inset, Shepard could feel a heavyweight settle upon him. Not in the physical sense but of the responsibility of his following actions. In his hands he carried the history of his old gang, traditions, rites, honor, and creed. Before the inset, the head down, he slowly set the tool into the final resting place.

The steel scratched, grating; once set properly, the hammer rang a pure note. From the inset, fire tendrils raced out, around the room, up the walls and ceiling. A runic plate brightened with the awakened flames, and split down the center. Slipping into recessed alcoves within the floor, the plate disappeared as a new motorcycle emerged.

The machine was shorter than Attero Dominatus, but on this one Shepard would sit straight rather than laying full body upon the chassis. The body was smooth, onyx black and trimmed with red. Attero Dominatus had been painted with the visage of a red skull upon its head, this possessed a sharp-nosed phoenix motif. From the front wheel cover, the talons of the great fire bird merged with the main body, the head positioned above the front lights of the machine. Moving back, the wings swept over the rear ending with the booster nacelles. This machine was the expression of responsibility he know carried, a beast to help carry his burdens.

Shepard's helmet lay upon the seat. Picking up the winged piece, he gazed at his reflection upon the visor. In the light of fire within the forge, a few features stood out upon his face. Lines crossed his face; silver-white hair stuck out at his temples and many individual strands could be seen. The weight of a galaxy's responsibility had made him old, but this machine would bear that weight. Placing the helmet upon his head, the faceplate secured automatically.

Turning towards his friends, the men and women who had stood with him these last months; he raised his fist before them and brought it to his heart, bowing his head and waist "Per ignem et glaciem sociis armatis Gratius tibi" he said. Without hesitation, Shepard mounted 'Nil Desperandum'. The machine came to life at his touch, a bestial roar erupted from its core and blew out the tailpipes followed by a gout of flames. Twisting the throttle to full, the wheels skid out, caught, and the machine flew down a rear tunnel leading to the surface.

The smoke from the tires faded, and most of the team walked back up entrance ramp to the shuttle. Garrus and Tali were the last, still looking down the tunnel where Shepard had gone. Tali sighed; Garrus took her around the shoulder leading her out. She had wanted to go with him, but there was no room. Garrus's presence was welcome, a comforting friend. "Young lass" Tyr called out.

Tali stopped, then moved to the old man. Weak and fading, Tyr looked through her mask and into her eyes. The same gaze Shepard often had when he stared into her eyes. Her breath caught; Tyr gave her a small smile, took her hand in his, and squeezed. The light pressure from those enormous hands surprised her, "you are a gentle creature, kind. Never lose that and be strong when he cannot". She nodded once.

A whirring sound came from the pit, drawing her attention "if you go now, you may still catch him, but you must ride upon the wind itself" Tyr said, voice strong over the mechanical noise. A second motorcycle emerged from the pit, a clone of Attero Dominatus but smaller, possessing a twisting, swirling patterns painted upon the black body; a familiar pattern…the same as her cowl.

Without second thoughts, her feet hardly touched the floor before she sat upon the machine. It came to life, the console displaying various readouts. Tapping a few keys on her omni-tool, Tali linked the console controls to her helmet display. Taking the handles in each hand, she turned the right as Shepard had done. The slight motion gave her some speed, but not the burst Shepard had done. Twisting harder, the engine roared, and the machine flew down the tunnel.

Sloping up, Tali shot out of the tunnel entrance. Moving her eyes over a map on her HUD, the image enhanced. Tracking Shepard's personal omni-tool signal, an indicator light showed him several kilometers away. Angling the machine in the proper direction, she twisted the throttle fully open.

The speed, the power of the engine and the untapped potential made her feel ecstatic, so alive. She laughed. Everything wrong over the past three years, Saren, Virmire, The Collectors taking Shepard, the fights across the galaxy to gather a strong force and the final fight upon the Collector base, all of that lead her to this. She laughed from the release and joy of the sensation. Tapping a key, Tali activated the stage two acceleration release. The power built and unleashed as gouts of fire from the exhaust. The speedometer ascended into the high two-hundreds.

Ahead, Shepard rode over the broken roadbed; Nil Desperandum rode beautifully, smooth upon the old paved road. This ride was not as his first-a rite of acceptance into a family. This was to hold and accept all responsibility forced upon him. The strange riding position was uncomfortable to his usual posture, but this was to be accepted as well: responsibility is often uncomfortable, even painful, but one must live with discomfort when accepting responsibility. A chitter came over his helmet audio, alerting to an approaching vehicle. Onboard sensor pinged the target at twenty-five kilometers bit closing fast; very fast.

Shepard barely twisted around to see when the second bike came upon him; it slowed, coming abreast and riding parallel. Tali sat upon the machine as though it was a part of herself, two made into a seamless whole. She turned to him, locked eyes with him through their helmets. She twisted her throttle with a tongue of flame bursting from the tailpipes. He nodded, tapped a switch on his console activating stage-two.

The machine lengthened; Shepard sat back further, legs out before him, as the bike stretched, opening and expanding the engine block to supply more fuel and air manifolds for more oxygen. With a roar, the longer engine powered up as hydrogen gas and air poured into the combustion chambers.

Racing together, Shepard and Tali sped down the old great road, chasing after the sun as it rose into the sky. With a final look and nod, both simultaneously activated the third stage release. The monitors rose, klaxons screamed in unison as the machines reached their limits. Both unleashed the chained power together, followed by a torrent of fire which wrapped, warped and grew together into a great beast. Its wings beat upon the ground, it fiery plumage enveloped the machines and riders. The great maw opened and eschewed a great wail, singing the beauty of life. The great wings of fire enclosed the two lovers within its embrace, protection for all things to come, for good or ill.

Shepard and Tali rode long into the desert, chasing after the rising sun; they would not stop until they reached the end of the very long rode far ahead.

_Author's Notes:_

_A great thank you and apology to all who have waited so long. College leaves little time for creative thinking and less will to write. In the meantime, I have many new ideas in mind for future works. Read, comment and review if you wish, and thank you for reading so far. For those interested, there is an epilogue to this. It takes place five years later_


	8. Epilogue

Mass Effect II – Through the Fire and the Flames

Chapter 8 – Epilogue

"AH!" she screamed, throwing the drawer closed in her frustration. Running fingers through her hair, she took steadying breaths, trying to remember where it had gone. One last breath, she went over every surface she'd come into contact with since entering the garage. Finally remembering, she groaned, feeling stupid at her absentmindedness.

At a large table laden with parts, tools, and machines of all purposes, her eyes caught onto a glint of stainless steel. Reaching out, three fingers grasped the long wrench and lifted it before her eyes. "Keelah, there you are" Tali murmured. Twirling the wrench between her fingers, it spun faster until it became a blur. But she lost her grip and the tool flew out of her hand, spinning end over end, toward several cans of epoxy and resin.

Tali barely got a word out before an arm caught the flying tool. The owner of that arm moved out from behind the wall, raised his eyebrow at the stunned Quarian woman and said "you should be careful with this" Jeremy said, shaking the wrench back and forth. Blushing with embarrassment, she accepted the wrench. Her hand brushed over his, three fingers of warm flesh against five of hardened ceramic and titanium. She shrugged it off most days, but the touch brought back the day he'd lost his right arm.

After infiltrating a Reaper and annihilating the mass effect core, the team had fought tooth and nail back to the insertion shuttle. Every corner hid a dozen enemies, every crate an ambush, and every shadow an enemy. One last corridor, with dozens of husks and abominations in their way; Shepard opened on the creatures with his Revenant, taking headshots where he could, crippling others. One shot nicked a conduit, and an exploding abomination lit the eschewing exhaust.

The explosion sent debris across the corridor, flying shrapnel cut the last of the damned creatures down. One large piece, triangular and sharp-edged, flew at Jeremy. It caught between elbow and shoulder, pinning him to the wall at his back. The rest of the squad was halfway to the shuttle when he cried out in pain. Tali had turned, seen her love, and then seen more husks, backed by scions.

She had only gone two steps before Garrus grabbed her from behind, dragging and screaming to let her go, all the while watching in horror as the creatures descended upon Jeremy. He saw them as well; resignation veiled his face at the approaching horde. Tali feared he had given up; instead, she watched as the Omni-blade materialized and severed the pinned arm at the shoulder. A clean cut through armor, flesh and bone, Shepard stood, Revenant cradled against his stomach, running and shooting until he fell over the step into the shuttle.

A liberal application of medi-gel, until it dripped from the stump of an arm remaining, prevented major blood loss but not the shock that proceeded. Jeremy passed out until he was in the sickbay aboard Normandy. Chakwas and her staff labored for hours stabilizing him; only until she was satisfied would she let anyone in to visit. Tali, at the prodding of Garrus and the rest of the team, went in first.

The shutters were closed to offer privacy; Jeremy lay in one of the beds, instruments silent as they monitored vitals. He was asleep, and she sat at his bedside, his large hand cupped in her smaller two. She tried to hold back but the tears came unbidden, though no sound but her sniffles revealed her distress. Then Shepard awoke, smiled at her, and proceeded to remove her mask, whereupon he kissed her.

Tali was pulled out from her memories, quite physically, into Shepard's arms. "You got that faraway look about ya' again" he said, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. Her mouth crooked on one side in a half-smile, but said nothing. Wrench in hand, she walked over to her motorcycle, Mãriana.

Shepard watched as Tali walked; since the end of the Reaper war, she had gone without her enviro-suit and adopted…freer attire. She wore a sleeveless shirt, and shorts, made from a pair of jeans shortened by a combat knife, and her old boots from the suit. "I just need to make some adjustments; about fifteen minutes then I'll be ready" she said. "Alright, I'll make the call" he replied. Through the door he came from, down the stairs and into the kitchen, he opened a conference call to the contacts he selected.

"We'll be ready to move out in fifteen, rendezvous at central first in thirty" Shepard received four affirmatives, closed the channel and entered the bedroom. Pulling out his riding leathers, he pulled the tight pants over his shorts and buckled them with his N7 belt. The jacket slid over the prosthetic easily, encased as it was in a smooth shell of ceramic.

He had been offered a sleeve of synthetic leather-skin to hide the cybernetic limb, but refused. The doctors gave him a look of bewilderment that anyone would want to openly show their disfigurement when a simple sleeve would make it appear as though he'd never lost the arm. He'd told them his right arm was the price he paid to survive, and he'd paid without hesitation.

Tali entered the bedroom, took one look at her husband in his tight-fitting leathers-the muscles of his legs, chest and arms accentuated-sent her heart beating a little faster. "I just need to suit up; the bikes are ready", she said, telling herself later would be better. Shepard nodded as he pulled on and laced his boots.

Once dressed, they entered the garage and mounted their machines. Shepard took the helmets from a rack on the wall, handing Tali her own-a basic helmet with an engraving of swirling patterns reminiscent of her suit silken wrap and hood. Once the helmets were secure, Jeremy opened a comm. channel to the rest of the group they were to meet on their way. "Headin' out, meet at rendezvous Charlie". "Affirmative"; "By your word, Battlemaster"; "Got it"; "We shall be there" came the four replies.

Taking the handles, Jeremy and Tali kicked their machines into life, revving until the engines roared. Twisting the throttles open and disengaging the brakes, the twins screeched as the tires spun out, catching on the garage floor and flying out through the open door.

Riding parallel down the hilly road, over small juts and dips of the land, the couple spied the Central Highway in the distance. Jeremy's audio came alive as they rode, and the sweet sounds of drum beats and straining guitar strings brought the air around them alive. A grin spread across his face as the music rang out and set his spirit free. Twisting the throttle until fully open, Nil Desperandum and Mãriana 'Zorah vas Rayaa rode down onto the distant road.

Approaching the on-ramp Jeremy and Tali decelerated, leaned right into the turn, and opened the throttles fully once again to jump as they crested the ramp onto the elevated road. Turning southward to their destination, a blip pinged on the locater of his Omni-tool. The newcomer crested the on-ramp as they had, approaching from behind to on Shepard's right.

He wore Turian-styled riding leathers with blue accents, accompanied with a helmet reminiscent of a fierce predatory bird found on Palaven. His machine resembled Tali's in how he rode-body laid out down along the machine-though the body of the machine was the exact opposite of Mãriana. Whereas Tali had styled the body with the pattern of her suit wrap, including a rich purple color, Garrus had little stylization whatsoever, accept for the intricate design painted upon the front, the rest remained a plain gunmetal grey.

A guttural roar approached from their six o'clock; in his rearview camera, Jeremy saw a massive steel steed bearing a giant of a rider. The tall exhaust pipes shook with the power of the massive engine, growing louder as rider and machine approached. Drawing level with the three riders, Grunt, garbed in varren skins with a fanged skull-plate helmet, let out a roar, fist punching the air. Shepard responded with his own fist.

Two final blips flashed on his Omni-tool, approaching from ahead. The two appeared, garbed in simple black riding leathers and helmets, one jumping higher as she crested the lip of the road, a corona of blue enveloping rider and machine. Slowing to join their four companions, the riders formed two columns of three apiece. Looking back at his friends, raised an open left hand, closed it, and activated the third stage.

Simultaneously, the six machines opened, the booster nacelles unfolding, safety mechanisms disengaging. With a cry of klaxon alarms, the six activated their systems; six gouts of fire erupted from the accelerators. As the thunderous sound eschewed from the powerful speakers of each riders machine, the spirit beasts awoke.

A mighty bear, a great eagle, a grey wolf, a snake, and the two phoenixes' that merged into one. The creatures flew through the air, riding with and above their mortal bodies. Theirs was a bond of loss and sorrow, joy and laughter, closer than blood or race. The fires of the great beast ceased and the riders rode the last few miles in silence. No sound but that of the engines was heard across the vast plains, as though every creature had fallen silent in homage to these old spirits.

Pulling left to the off-ramp, the six companions rode on toward a canyon, its sheer cliffs towering into the sky, ever rising higher as they drew near. Within the canyon a road, formed of an old river bed, curved and twined, following a path cut millennia ago by water, wind and time. Dismounting, Jeremy gazed upon the five who rode with him.

Garrus, the old scar on his face now joined by a missing fringe spine, cut off by a Reaper beam weapon; Grunt, missing his left eye and bearing a brutal scar from the top of his head-plate to the jaw; Jack, one of the few among the old crew who had come out unscarred despite all the Reapers attempts. The war, ravaging worlds and sundering the lives of millions, had tempered the rage Jack had held the entirety of her young life.

She had grown out her hair, significantly, since the last time Jeremy had seen her, nearly five years ago during the victory celebrations. Dark chestnut strands without order hung about her face, ending at the base of her neck. Small changes were apparent about her person, and not merely the conservative way in which she now preferred to dress. Her gait when walking had less force, her body posture more relaxed. And Jack smiled when she saw him.

The smile Jack had on was beautiful, accentuating her face and making her look years younger. She broke into a run once off her bike, and jumped at Jeremy, nearly forcing him to the ground. She laughed as he balanced and embraced in return.

Releasing him, Jack turned on Tali and did the same, leaving Jeremy with the other three. Garrus approached, hand out, and they grasped by the forearm. They exchanged no words, just a simple nod and a shake of the shoulder before the young, yet far larger, Krogan youth approached.

Grunt's head bowed low, with his right fist over one of the two hearts. "Battlemaster, it is good to see you healthy and strong" he said; Jeremy returned the salute "I am thankful you could be here today, my friend. How fares clan Urdnot?" Grunt looked up, a happy grin revealing his sharp teeth, "Urdnot grows every year. Clan leader Wrex expects a brood within six months, and myself in seven. The clan leader said he would name his first son after you".

Jeremy smiled at his old friends then turned to see the last of the riders. Their sixth companion removed his helmet as soon as Jeremy laid eyes on him; he breathed of the dry air as though it was water from the fountain of life, the red flesh of his neck flexing as he inhaled. The sunlight gleamed upon his teal green skin; he opened his eyes, nodded once and followed as the six climbed the hill into the cave set into the canyon wall.

Beyond the entrance, a small cavern lit with braziers and fire troughs, stood assembled the gathered survivors of the Normandy SR-3, among a few from the crews of the SR's 1 and 2.

"Captain on deck!" someone within the crowd shouted, from the accent Jeremy believed it was Donnelly.

The crowd turned to the cavern entrance, and Jeremy saw them fully; Chakwas was at the forefront, Gardner on her right. The two had wed just a month after the end of the war, both whole and healthy. Jacob and Kasumi, also wed but during the conflict when it seemed as though the Reapers were about to be turned back. They weren't, and both had been injured in an attack. Once recovered, Jacob proposed, and Jeremy had performed the ceremony in the CIC. Not a day later, the Alliance and Turian fleets, assisted with Krogan shock troops, assaulted two Reaper dreadnaughts. That battle had been brutal, a near pyrrhic victory, but the Reapers were destroyed.

Looking more, Jeremy saw faces he knew and others he didn't. He saw Donnelly and Daniels, with a three year old on the tall Scotsman's shoulders, with the same hair color as well. He saw the crewmember who talked endlessly about his family. His daughter held her father's left hand and a fair woman on his right.

Engineer Adams, Ashley, Joker and Chambers, all surviving members and honoraries gathered here. Stepping forward, into the bowl in which the old crew stood, they parted into two columns three rows deep each. "Ten-hut" someone of the crowd called out; all followed suit with snap of heels, backs and shoulders straightened, followed by sharp salutes.

As Jeremy moved between them, his six riding companions melding into the gathered crowd, he stepped onto a raised stone plinth, circular and almost perfect in shape as though molded for the purpose of elevating someone above the heads of others. He looked upon them, his friends and crew. They had journeyed through hell together and now reunited to remember.

Removing the riding jacket to show his prosthetic, he addressed the gathered men and women. "My friends, colleagues, comrades in arms who have shed blood and tears together, who have enjoyed laughter and drink as one, and have given peace in those darkest hours" his voice carried throughout the space, circling and amplified but never echoing.

"We have reunited on this day, to remember, to honor those who have gone before us, to reaffirm the bond we share, and to confirm the joining of another" Jeremy looked toward the Drell youth "Kolyat Krios, come forward". The boy looked nervous; he turned to Jack, who nodded and gave him a shove toward the rock.

The crowd parted around him, forming a path. Kolyat walked, a slow nervous pace, until he stood before Jeremy; when he spoke to the young man, his voice was quiet but all could hear. "Your father joined my squad after simply being asked to lend his skills; he survived many battles, small and large, and was instrumental in the assault and destruction of the Collectors. And though small, he lent his skills during the Reaper War, and gave his life to save others."

In his periphery, Jeremy could see a number of crew from the SR-2 bowing their heads; among them Grunt, with his right fist over his heart, and Jacob who stood straighter, remembering the first time he'd met Thane, accusing him of fickle loyalties, and now proud to have served with him; "we remember and honor his sacrifice and we offer to you, his son, the choice to join us", holding out his prosthetic hand, Kolyat hesitated for a stretch of seconds.

Kolyat grasped the proffered cybernetic limb at the forearm, enough for Jeremy to pull him up and stand with on the dais as well. The crowd whistled and clapped. Once the noise silenced, the rear cavern wall shifted, a stone slab slid away to reveal a row of holographic projectors. Upon the projectors came the faces of the dead: Thane, Mordin, Miranda, Samara, Zaeed.

Turning to face the projectors, Jeremy knelt and placed his right hand over his heart, followed by Kolyat and the gathered members of his crew. A short oath to honor the fallen before standing again; closing the thumb and middle-finger of the left hand; the sharp snap of flesh echoed throughout the cavern. Rock shook; a shriek of large mechanisms coming alive from a long period of dormancy. Below the row of projectors rose a small stage, occupied by various instruments-guitars and a set of drums mostly.

Jeremy mounted the stage accompanied by Garrus, who took a bass, Grunt who occupied the drums, and Jacob on a second guitar. Once the group was ready, all light within the cavern dimmed as a spotlight shone down upon the floor, illuminating a space of fifteen foot diameter. Into this pool of light walked Tali.

Her riding leathers were discarded, underneath which was hidden a dress of deep purple, the rich color and her dark hair a beautiful compliment. She wore no other adornment, nor even shoes. Spreading her arms, she stood still as a statue until the group began to play. Slow graceful movements in time with the music of the guitars and drums. Until Jeremy began to sing,

Tali's body flowed in perfect harmony with the music and lyrics, her hands moving in careful patterns complimenting the rhythm of her figure. As the song grew in speed, so did pave of her dance.

To Jeremy, it looked as though Tali had abandoned her body in favor of allowing it to follow the music, drawing upon all she had been taught to perform spectacularly for those she considered her family.

As the song continued, a second dancer, graceful and lean, with black hair as well but a white dress against her cream skin, fell into perfect synchronicity with her Quarian counterpart. The two moved as though made of water, forms moving past each other, never touching, always shifting.

The duo of Kasumi and Tali were finally joined by a third, red hair and dress a fiery counter against the purple and white. Their movements became an elaborate flurry of feet, legs, arms and torso, each moving between the others without ever making contact.

The song began to build toward a crescendo; Kelly, Tali and Kasumi responded with speed as well, arms and legs flashing past one another, bodies never far apart. The crew beat their hands in time with the dancers and music, adding to the din and fervor of the cavern, until the guitars and drums ceased with only Jeremy remaining. As the song ran down, the overhead light dimmed, casting the cavern into shadow once again.

The last strains of music fell away to the hush of the cavern; light swept across the cavern again, revealing the three dancers in the center of a circle of people. All three had a sheen of perspiration from their exertion, but also a small contented smile, for Tali, a smirk, seductive and smug, for Kasumi as she locked eyes with Jacob, and a big happy grin spreading Kelly's lips wide apart.

The crew cheered, whistled and applauded the dancers and musicians. No sooner had their gathering begun that it ended; the old crew dispersed, returning to their new lives beyond war and the memories of the Reapers, but vowing to return again.

Tali watched them leave from the cavern entrance, again in her riding leathers and her helmet held under one arm. Jeremy wrapped his prosthetic around her waist, pulling her into him as they witnessed the departure of the three-or-so dozen people. She sighed out loud, head low as the last of her friends departed.

She wished they could stay longer, talk and socialize as they had back on the Normandy, but…none wanted to as they all knew it would lead to talking about the war and…everything that had happened. Tali looked down at her husband's arm, synthetic and perfectly precision for full functionality. She sighed again, 'this short gathering is for the best; we can't dwell too heavily on the past'.

Jeremy cupped her cheek with his remaining hand-the rough, callused skin, big fingers and large palm was a soothing caress to draw her out of her brief melancholy. He kissed her, full and deep, her eyes dropped under their own weight. It was an eternity within a moment. Pulling back, he took her hand; without a word, they walked to their motorcycles.

Laying upon the body of the machine, it came to life beneath her, and began to play a song which echoed throughout the canyon as it thundered from the speakers. She smiled as the song played. 'Always know exactly what I need to hear, Tali thought.

Twisting the throttle, the engine roared with power. Their back tires spun out, dust and dirt flying high in a great arch; the wheels caught and the machines shot down the canyon pass, their riders catching the last rays of another setting sun as it descended beyond the far away horizon. Riding down the length of the great highway, the riders engaged their machines, opening the hidden true form. The great spirit-beasts came alive with a roar of fire and the sound of thunderous drums and wailing guitars, combining to a single being, whole and one as their riders, chasing the setting sun, the same as the one five years ago.

_Author's Note: Finally finished. Took longer than intended, but could not find the right method or means to do so. This had initially been intended as a quick final, but it quickly became more than that._

_Fir those of you who have continued through this since the past summer, I Thank You, truly, as it makes me glad to think that people enjoy reading what I write and that may be similarly inspired as I was._

_I have planned a number of future fictions: Fallout 3, New Vegas, Dragon Age and more Mass Effect. I may have something within the next week, but I cannot promise as I can be fickle when laziness sets in, especially during the college semester. But my ideas never stop their perpetual creation, so even though I am not writing what will come will be of as good quality, if not better, than this first piece of mine._

_For now, constant readers, I bid you farewell,_

_Tutor Verum_

_Music which help shape this chapter:_

_Iron Savior:_

_Heavy Metal Never Dies_

_A Moment in Time_

_Linkin' Park:_

_New Divide_

_Santana:_

_Into the Night, with Chad Kroeger(for the dance)_


End file.
